


Delphinium

by bimmykimmy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ABO-esque dynamics, Aged-Up Character(s), Alien Culture, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fainting, M/M, Post-Canon, Pranking, Sick Character, allurance in the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-05-29 14:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15075230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bimmykimmy/pseuds/bimmykimmy
Summary: The war of a lifetime has ended. The paladins of Voltron have fallen into a calm era of peace. When knowing they are no longer needed for emergent issues, Keith goes with Krolia on a mission to preserve Galra culture in the colonies, while also taking the opportunity to learn about his heritage. Hunk tags along, because they're in love, and learns a little about Galra courtship. But it may not all be truth.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Delphinium: big-heartedness, fun, lightness and levity. It also indicates ardent attachment._

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a good wedding to kick things off, eh?

The war is far from being a distant memory, but a decent enough chunk of time passes for those to start calling it an era of peace. The Galra threat is no longer, the peace treaty signed with all its stipulations and negotiations. It’s an eye-opener for the people of Earth. It's a stagnant time, too, a deep breath finally released. And the Paladins of Voltron, revered and cherished as they are, fall into stagnancy as well.

The season is summer, and the crest of waves lap against the golden sandy shore. The crowd, small but important, stands with smiles and dewy eyes as the minister reads the prayer. Albeit, Castilian may not be in everyone's repertoire, the ceremony resonates beautifully in everyone’s heart.

"I said I wasn't going to cry," Coran's quivering voice pulls Keith's attention from the bride and groom. He tugs at his collar, his tie a little too tight for a blistering day like this. The sweat accumulating on his back causes him to grimace every once in a while, but he ignores it. He can do that much today.

Coran dissolves into quiet tears, drawing some attention from others who simply smile and coo small comforts to him. "Wanna make a bet he dips her?" a lower, huskier voice to Keith's left whispers into his ear. Keith rolls his eyes and jabs his elbow poignantly into Hunk's gut. "Ouch," Hunk wheezes, flinching upon impact, but Keith hears the lighthearted chuckle that follows. Shiro quirks an eyebrow at them, leaning around Hunk to give Keith a look.

" _Shh!_ " Keith hisses through a smile, despite Shiro's warning. He catches Hunk's almond gaze, warm and bright, and shifts his hand into his, entwining their fingers together.

Allura's eyes sparkle in the sun, a dazzling kaleidoscopes of color. Her elegant white hair is pulled up into an ornate braid adorned by a crown of golden flowers. Both of their profiles are highlighted with the endless ribbon of blue, soft billowy clouds above them, framed by the small arch of the hand-made alter. Lance’s nervous trembling hands hold hers and he slips on the ring, glancing out to the crowd. His eyes scan the plethora of family and close friends and eventually land on the rest of the paladins, laughing a little to himself when all he can see is the very top of Pidge’s head. Lance winks at them all, his found family, and as soon as the priest commemorates the couple, he swoops Allura into his arms.

Lance's aunt is the first to hoot and holler as the newlyweds share their first marital kiss, something akin to the sound of someone scoring the winning goal in a football match. Lance dips Allura low, smiling into the kiss as she swats him with her bouquet.

“Called it.”

Keith rolls his eyes and shakes his head, smile ever-present.

The crowd cheers and throws petals onto the couple as they walk hand in hand back down the aisle. When Allura and Lance reach the end, they raise their held hands into the air, gaining another crescendo of cheers and applause. It feels right, like this is the delayed celebration of their valiant efforts for so many years. All of them have sacrificed; all have lost something. But in the end, they’ve gained what feels like a happy ending.

Lance suddenly whips around, slender hand tugging his tie loose.

“I’m racing everyone here! GO!” is all he says before turning high heel and sprinting toward the wooden dock that protrudes out into the crystal blue sea. Allura is not far behind him, hiking up her ornate dress and kicking off her heels. She quickly gains ground, shrinking the distance between them before surpassing him entirely. Everyone watches in awe as her bare feet pound against the dark wood, leaping into the air, seemingly floating against that blue expanse, before plummeting into the water with an impressive splash.

Lance follows shortly after, curling his legs in against his chest for an equally impressive corkscrew. The rest of the wedding-goers do not need much convincing, and soon enough everyone is running toward the cool, refreshing water with reckless abandon. Pidge kicks off her shoes, throwing them at her brother as she loosens her own tie. Matt juggles the shoes clumsily before dropping them entirely and following suit. Coran, in the midst of a perfect swan dive, somehow flicks off all his clothes to reveal a sleek bathing suit underneath just moments before splicing into the water without so much as a splash. Shiro stands near a log on the beach, stepping out of his slacks and folding them against his chest before placing them neatly down. He’s got a bathing suit on underneath as well, a prepared little boy scout.

“You wanna go in?” Hunk steps next to Keith at the edge of the beach, surveying the party with a grin. “It’s really hot out.”

“Yeah, I’ll make my way in. I’m gonna sit here for a while,” Keith answers with a little nudge at Hunk. “Go on, go nuts.”

“You sure?”

“Go!” Keith laughs, pushing Hunk hard enough that he stumbles forward. “I’ll catch up.”

Hunk is already shucking off his coat, shredding his layers down to his black boxer briefs before sprinting into the water like a bulldozer. Keith watches his back, a deep brilliant golden brown in the shining sun, muscular and scarred. Pidge is tackling Hunk before he even has a chance to dive under.

Keith toes off his shoes and pulls his socks off before walking onto the sand. He places his belongings next to Shiro’s before sitting down on the driftwood, watching the wedding party carry on for what will probably be a very long, celebratory night. It’s been long-awaited. He breathes deeply, letting out a contented sigh through his lips.

“You’re not going to swim?”

Keith looks over his shoulder behind him, smiles, and looks back out to the crowd. “Oh, believe me I will. Lance will probably figure someway to trick me into a challenge. You’d think I’d learn to avoid it, but no.”

Krolia chuckles, always amused by her son’s never-ending rivalry with his teammate. She rounds the driftwood and sits next to Keith, close, comfortable. They’ve come a long way to since the beginning. Krolia turns toward her son, lifting her hand to brush some hair out of his face. He’s matured so much; jaw squaring, eyes hardening. It never ceases to amaze her how much he resembles _him._ Krolia drops her hand back to her lap and they sit in a comfortable silence.

Being back on earth has been nice. Krolia appreciates Keith opening his home to her, but she knows it wasn’t supposed to last forever. Not when there is still so much to do, so much to change. She knows she has to tell him sooner or later. Now is as good a time as any.

“I’m leaving Earth soon,” she says as a gust of wind off the sea stirs up some sand. The two of them squint into the small cloud, shielding themselves.

Keith turns toward his mother, rubbing his eye, the iris thinned to a slit and the sclera tinted a slight yellow at the agitation. He blinks hard and his eye returns to its human form. Krolia’s eyebrows lift, but she says nothing.

“What do you mean, _leaving?_ ” he asks accusatorially, body tensing, shoulders squaring, lips tightening into a thin frown.

It’s not the reaction Krolia wants, but it’s the one she’s expected. A sigh passes her lips before she can stop it. “There is more work to be done, Keith,” she holds firm in her tone, gaze set out toward the sea, where Hunk lifts Lance up onto his shoulders while Shiro hoists Allura on his. “There are Galra colonies that need supplies and aid. The war was detrimental not only to Altea, son…the restoration process of Galran culture _needs_ to begin.”

Keith is silent, the words piercing his skin like ice daggers. But like ice, those words melt, seeping into his very being, calling to an inner voice that’s been softly whispering to Keith for years. “I understand.” Keith’s words resonate barely above a whisper, but it’s enough for Krolia. She closes her eyes, expression tightening with the guilt of leaving her child again.

“Keith, I’m sor—“

“I’ll come with you.”

“What? Keith,” Krolia turns to her son, eyes wide, her large hands rising to his shoulders and squeezing lovingly. “No, I will not ask you to do that. There is so much for you here. Your…friends, your family. I’ve loved being here, loved fighting the fight with you, finally—“  she lets out another sigh, happy yet solemn, “ _finally_ able to watch you grow. But the war is over, Keith. You need to make your life here.”

 “My life belongs with you,” Keith answers, gaze unwavering even as Krolia squeezes his shoulders again. Stubbornness runs in the family; Krolia knows that much. “If you’re leaving to restore Galran culture, then I’m coming with. I’m not losing my mother again.”

Krolia sighs, a little frustrated, and drops her hold on Keith to sit straight again. Her eyes drop to her hands in her lap, her fingers curled there.

“I spent so many years fighting against Galra, _with_ Galra, Mom,” Keith persisted. “I _am_ Galra. But I still don’t know enough about my own blood. What I know is only war. I want to know more— I want to know what you know. What Dad knew. Don’t you think I deserve that much?”

“You do,” Krolia says softly, finally looking at Keith’s determined gaze once more. She reaches out, cupping her child’s face in her warm, calloused hand. “There is so much for you to learn, so much I want to teach you, so much you need to know.” She lifts her other hand, cupping Keith’s scarred cheek before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss onto his forehead. “But what about Hunk?”

She pulls away just enough to see Keith’s eyes widen, gaze darting beyond his mother to the laughing and jovial screaming coming from the sea. Hunk has slicked his hair back; it’s longer now, he hasn’t thought to cut it yet with how busy he’s been. He and Shiro obtained positions at the Garrison almost immediately after the war ended. Pidge continued with studies, earning a higher degree than the lot of them. Coran, a spot on the intergalactic immersion committee. Lance and Allura joined the Air and Space Force affiliated with the Garrison and the U.S.-Cuban defense sect. Everyone had found their place.

The man who laughs and runs in the water now is light-years away from the boy thrust into a whirlwind of struggles, now battle hardened and mature. The giant lightning branches of a scar across his chest pang tension into Keith’s heart. Hunk has scarified just as much as everyone here. He’s changed; so has Keith. But he always has been and always will be Hunk Garrett: the backbone and heart.

The strength.

Keith’s strength.

“He’s…” Keith licks his lips, shying away from his mother’s touch before suddenly standing and unbuttoning his dress shirt. “He’ll be fine. He’ll understand.”

“Keith… _no abandonment, no deserting,_ ” Krolia’s voice spills into simple Galran, speaking what she knows Keith has learned. _“Only commitment.”_ She watches her son with unwavering concentration, knowing full well her words are reaching him. She is willing to accept his company, but only if he understands what he will be leaving behind.

Keith tosses his shirt next to Krolia, not looking back as he marches toward the water, his friends turning to greet him with cheers and smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold on to your butts, folks. It's gonna be a wild ride!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finally tells Hunk he's leaving.

“Um, I am most certainly _not_ fine!”

Hunk’s shrill protest pierces the quiet of the small room as he paces just beyond the foot of the bed. A frazzled look set to his features, he runs a hand through his messy hair, catching on some knots and struggling to free his fingers. “I— this is— argh! Stupid hair.”

Keith sits on the bed, legs crossed, watching Hunk move back and forth. He opens his mouth to say more, but closes it as soon as he sees Hunk turn toward him again.

“So, you were just going to _leave?_ Just like that?” Hunk snaps. “When were you going to tell me? Were you even _going_ to tell me?!”

“I thought you’d understand,” Keith retorts, defensiveness maybe a little too extreme at this point, but he feels backed into a corner. He’s panicking. “This is important to me, Hunk.”

“You think I don’t know that? Gosh dang it…” Hunk, ever the careful man when he knows Krolia could hear. They may be in the privacy of their room, but Hunk understands Galran highly-sensitive hearing enough to be careful. “Keith, of course I understand. This is your heritage. Of— of course I’m going to support you. I just…wish you would’ve told me sooner.”

Keith’s gaze drops away from Hunk, guilt wilting his expression. He knows this is true. Keith has known since the wedding; he’s had plenty of time to tell Hunk, but he didn’t. He hadn’t told anyone. Just chalk it up to another mistake on the seemingly never-ending list. Old habits die hard, he supposes. Keith sighs and picks up a pillow, pressing his pale, scarred hand to it, smoothing out the wrinkles.

He pulls at a loose threat on the edge of the pillow’s seam. He doesn’t want their goodbye to end in a fight. He leaves tomorrow. He wants to spend his last night with Hunk lost in his eyes, feeling Hunk’s warm lips against his; he wants to hold him in his arms as they drift to sleep. He’s thought of something though— to make the separation easier.

“Matt’s prototype communication system is ready to be tested,” Keith offers. “We could ask if I could take it, so that way we can still—“

“What?”

Keith looks up at Hunk, squinting. “What, what?”

“What are you talking about, Keith?”

“What am I— what are _you_ talking about?”

“I’m going with you, idiot.”

“ _What?!_ ”

Hunk groans, aggravated. He sits heavily down onto the bed next to him, which gives Keith a ricocheted bounce. Hunk brings his hands to Keith’s face, cupping it firmly but lovingly. His eyes stare directly into Keith’s, and Keith feels like Hunk can see into his very soul. He’s always felt that about Hunk’s gaze. It leaves him breathless, dizzy. Lately, more often than ever before.

“You think I’m gonna just let you waltz out of my life after waiting five years for your sorry butt to get a clue?” Hunk grins and he trails his thumbs over Keith’s soft cheeks, over that scar that holds so much history, so much pain. “You can’t get rid of me that easily. Sorry dude, you’re stuck with me.”

Keith chuckles, hands lifting to meet Hunk’s, and he closes his eyes. He’s never wanted to ask something so big of Hunk. But in his heart of hearts, Keith is happy. He wants this, he wants Hunk. He wants to share whatever his future holds with him. And if Hunk is willing to sacrifice a little more, just a little more, after everything they’ve already been through, Keith doesn’t need more than a small nudge to go along with it. “You’ll be leaving your family again, leaving Earth…”

“Eh, I’ve missed space.”

“Liar.”

Keith feels a current of warmth bleed through his body when Hunk’s lips touch his smile. Hunk presses against him, wrapping his thick arms around Keith’s shoulders and pulling him close. Keith leans back against more pillows, allowing Hunk to crawl fully onto the bed. He scoots backwards, lips meeting Hunk’s as he lies down.

“You…your job,” Keith breathes against Hunk’s lips, humid and hot. Hunk’s hands trail up Keith’s torso, fingers leaving ghostly trails until their hands clasp together on either side. Keith moans soft and quick into Hunk’s mouth, opening his own for Hunk’s tongue to deepen the kiss. His heart thunders in his chest, heavy and fast. Hunk has that effect on him— he does a _lot_ to Keith, honestly.

“PTO,” Hunk rasps as he parts from the kiss, bringing his lips to Keith’s jaw, lowering to give small love bites against the sensitive skin of Keith’s neck.

Keith laughs at that, hard, and he shakes his hand away from Hunk’s grip to bring it up to Hunk’s face, pushing him away. He laughs even harder when he feels Hunk’s tongue lap against his palm. “You dummy!”

“You’re the dummy,” Hunk’s clever retort earns him a roll of Keith’s eyes. Hunk, straddling Keith, looks down at him with an unwavering gaze. “I love you.”

“You’re so embarrassing,” Keith mumbles, having to look away as he feels his face begin to burn. Battles to the death, insanely difficult tactical maneuvers, undercover missions— Keith could do all of those things, but none of those ever came close to the struggles he encountered with things like…this. With Hunk, it is always something new. It took him long enough to realize Hunk is special— special in a way that’s different from Shiro, from the others. Keith’s only regret is that it took almost the entirety of the war to recognize what his heart was telling him. And sometimes his heart feels so light that he’s almost convinced it’s a dream, some kind of hallucination from lack of oxygen. But every time he feels himself pull away, shrink into himself, Hunk has been there to pull him back out, to guide him when he needed and wanted.

“Ding ding ding! That’s the magic word of the day. _Embarrassing,”_ Hunk says warmly. His hips lower to press against him teasingly, and he drops his lips to Keith’s ear, breathing his next words in that low voice, the one only meant for Keith. “You win the prize.”

Keith tilts his head, lips parting in a soft moan. Unbeknownst to the two, Keith’s irises slit momentarily before returning to their original shape. Keith brings his hands to Hunk’s back, fingernails raking small lines down the dark skin, coming back up softly to feel the curve of his spine.

“I want it,” the words melt from Keith easy now, unashamed despite the growing redness on his face. “Want _you_.”

But Hunk’s head drops to the pillows beside Keith, a groan muffled into the soft fabric. “I can’t.”

“Can’t?” Keith asks distractedly, heart still beating like a fluttering bird against his ribcage. His fingertips feel like they’re buzzing against Hunk’s warm skin. His eyelids feel droopy, fingers still languidly ghosting against Hunk as if trying to memorize him.

“Your mom is here, man.” Hunk lifts his head, pressing his forehead against Keith’s, properly gaining his attention. Keith blinks owlishly up at him, lips parted just enough to almost cause Hunk to give in again. Hunk’s pouts, the look in his eyes akin to a puppy dog begging for table scraps. “She’ll _hear_ ,” he whispers conspiratorially.

Keith laughs again, the bed quivering beneath him. He tilts his head up, just enough to catch a quick kiss. His hands lower on Hunk’s back, rounding over his ass and gripping hard, earning him a short yelp from Hunk.

“C’mon, Keith, not fair!” Hunk narrows his eyes, glaring down at Keith, but there is only humor in that glassy gaze. A grin stretches across his features.

Keith releases his hold on Hunk’s butt, lifting to wrap his arms around his shoulders and pulling him down into an embrace. He hides his face into the soft crook between his neck and shoulder, breathing in heavily. A sudden chill shivers through his entire body— something like adrenaline. It’s…odd. But Keith ignores it.

“Let’s just lay here a while, then,” is what he opts to say after letting out that deep, intoxicating breath.

\--

Tearful goodbyes are something the team is accustomed to, but that doesn’t make them any easier. The news of Krolia, Keith, and Hunk’s departure is greeted with a series of complaints that eventually dwindle down to understanding and support. That’s how most things go nowadays.

Pidge and Matt are already rushing around, packing things for Keith and Hunk to take with them to aid with research. “I just got back from my honeymoon!” Lance jokes as he clasps hands with Keith, pulling him in for a hug. “You son of a bitch— take care of him, alright?”

Keith smiles as they pull away from the embrace, and he nods. “I will.” He turns away, waving over his shoulder.

“Couldn’t handle the fact I tied the knot before you, huh? Now that I’m _technically_ a king of a planet? Once a sore loser, always a sore loser!”

Keith’s wave morphs into flipping the bird, and Lance’s laugh rises higher into the warm, summer air.

“Aww, don’t be like that! It’s not a _race,_ Keith!”

“Lance, don’t be a dick.” Hunk intervenes, and Keith can hear Lance’s air knocked out of him as Hunk undoubtedly pulls him in for one of his infamous hugs.

Keith looks up to the sky, letting out an exasperated, yet amused sigh, and he brings his gaze back down to Shiro. They approach each other, readying their goodbyes for what feels like an unending number of times. Somehow they always find their way back to each other, though. That’s what’s important.

“I’m proud of you,” Shiro says through a soft smile. “You deserve this.”

“You sure you’re gonna be okay without me here?”

“I’ve managed worse, haven’t I?”

“Always the realist,” Keith laughs and brings himself in for a warm hug. “Just stay out of trouble, okay?”

“I used to be the one saying that to you!” Shiro pulls away from the hug, holds Keith’s shoulders, just far enough to get a good look at him. There is so much that could be said, but isn’t. They simply take in each other’s presence for a moment, emotions of a lifetime swelling to the surface. He pats Keith’s arm once, squeezing it.

“I’ll make sure the Black Lion stays nice and tuned up,” Shiro says with a grin.

“Don’t get too handsy, old man. She’s still mine.”

Shiro raises his eyebrows, mouth opening in a flabbergasted half-smile, and laughs. “Oh, so it’s like that?”

“It’s like that,” Keith scrunches his nose, smirking even as he’s drawn in for another, stronger hug.

The rest of their goodbyes are drawn out, longer than probably necessary, but oh-so-necessary. Hunk and Lance cry, and the display almost gives Keith misty eyes but he blinks them away just in time for Pidge to give him another hug.

Waving to their friends, Hunk walking backwards into the ship, the trio steps onto the craft set to bring them to their designation, for an undetermined length, but with an absolute agenda.

\--

“Do you remember Governess Dayak?” Hunk says, three weeks into their journey. He rests his head in Keith’s lap, as Keith reads a book from a holo-screen, hand lazily fiddling with Hunk’s hair.

“Hmm?” Keith responds.

“Governess _Dayak_ ,” Hunk repeats with more emphasis. “I told you about her a long time ago. She was—“

“Lotor’s nanny,” Krolia cuts in from where she sits across from the boys. She crosses her legs onto the small desk that lies in the make-shift living room on the ship. It isn’t a large craft, but it’s enough for their journey. Its navigation system is advanced enough for autopilot in easy terrain. “I heard she gained asylum on the outer quadrants.”

Hunk snorts, giggling like the little kid at heart he still is. “Nanny…”

“So, what about her?” Keith asks, curiosity piqued.

“Yes, why bring her up?” Krolia adds.

“Well, she taught me some things,” Hunk explains as he sits up, leaning back and resting his arms up on the seat. “I’m just…y’know, trying to prepare myself for this.” He looks over at Krolia, whose eyebrows are raised in interest. He brings his hand up to his chin, scratching at the prickly stubble already beginning to grow despite having shaved just that morning. “Is all of Galran culture that…intense?”

Krolia laughs softly and shakes her head. “No. The Galra aren’t and never have been a race of war and rage as history depicts. A little rough compared to other species, but I think that’s just what makes us unique.”

“Neat!” Hunk says as he moves his hand to the back of Keith’s neck, resting it there gently. “I can’t wait to find some traditional recipes. Altean food was hard enough to learn, but once I got the hang of it, it was a breeze. I’m ready for a _challenge!_ ”

As Hunk continues to speak, Keith’s gaze drifts somewhere far-off, chewing on his lower lip as he feels Hunk’s warm hand against his skin. The nape of his neck, freshly buzzed, gathers goosebumps upon his touch. He takes in a deep breath, holding it in as if the air were a drug. He doesn’t have a thought in his mind, the action is just instinctual. When he blinks back into focus, letting out that breath, his gaze drops to his mother who is eyeing him almost too intensely. It gives him a bit of a start, his heart leaping to his throat.

“Do you think I could learn Galran too?” Hunk’s voice suddenly comes into focus too, like dialing a switch on a radio. Keith realizes he hasn’t heard half of what he’s said.

Blinking and shaking his head a little, feeling a bit fuzzy, Keith glances back toward his mother for a moment before turning to Hunk. “I’m sure you could probably learn,” he says with a smile. “It isn’t as hard as Altean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am trying something new with this fic. I always burn myself out by making chapters that are like 5k, so I'm taking this one bit by bit and making them shorter. Hopefully that wont make it feel like the story is going to fast. Enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Krolia, Keith, and Hunk have arrived at the colony. New faces, new terrain, new looks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (this is the sex chapter that should be it's title im sorry)

Hunk’s widened eyes and flattened lips do very little to help the not-nervous, totally-at-ease, definitely-not-freaking-out demeanor he’s attempting to put on. The two monstrous— albeit friendly— galra, standing almost two feet taller than Hunk, look down at him.

“Tulruk and Zandar,” Krolia repeats, regaining Hunk’s attention.

“N-nice to meet you,” Hunk practically peeps, holding out his shaky hand.

“Pleasure is all mine!” The big-eared chip-toothed galra grins, and grasps Hunk’s hand with a grip strong enough to have him seeing stars. “Tulruk’s the name. Glad to have you aboard on our recovery mission!”

“I’m Zandar,” the slightly softer voice comes from the other Galra, standing next to his excitable brother. He extends his hand to Keith, who takes it with a smile. “We had been communicating with Krolia for a few weeks before your arrival. We were not aware she was bringing two paladins of Voltron. It’s an honor.”

 “Whatever we can do to help, let us know,” Keith says, in the authoritative voice he’s perfected over years of leadership. The colony they’ve arrived on is small and quaint, and on the edge of collapse. During the war their supplies had been cut off, and the colony had done it’s best to survive; it’s crucial to set up a new, more effective system. On top of that, installing and upgrading their defense and commerce systems are major tasks. Keith is thankful Hunk came with-- he’s a genius with that stuff. Not that they wouldn’t be able to manage without him, it’s just…Keith feels more comfortable knowing Hunk is there with him.

Speaking of which…

“I like this one, brother!” Tulruk’s boisterous voice booms above the small group, echoing into the air and scattering airborne creatures from the bright colored foliage. “He’s strong!”

Keith, Krolia, and Zandar turn their heads to see Tulruk’s massive arm around Hunk, holding him close in camaraderie. Hunk’s eyes are a little wide and a little wild, but he seems to have grown more comfortable from his earlier, onset anxiety of being somewhere new.

Keith hides his snort behind his fist, but Hunk notices it and shoots him a glare.

In just a day’s time, their project gets going. Rejuvenate, rebuild. And all the while, Krolia will give her son a well-deserved showcase of his heritage.

\--

Hunk lathers the shaving gel onto his face and chin, scrubbing it to a crisp white foam before washing it off his hands. The razor sits in a small cup, hanging next to the small vanity in Keith’s room. It’s a single room with a small bed for one, in one of the metallic huts that have been set up in rows much like a military encampment. They learned quickly that many of the galran colonies lived like this, having been established hastily as the empire grew at an unforgiving rate.

Keith and Hunk had exchanged glances that first night, but hadn’t protested at receiving separate housing arrangements. The colony was gracious enough to welcome them; they weren’t going to complicate things unnecessarily. They’d agreed to respect what was offered-- but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t sneak around like cadets in the Garrison at night.

As Hunk brings the razor to his face, Keith flips the page of his holo-screen, reading some sort of script that Krolia has homeworked him. His eyebrows are tightly knit, and the small crinkle of his nose makes a deep crease.

“Does that make any sense yet?” Hunk asks, glancing up at Keith behind him through the mirror; the small _sshick_ of his razor fills the silence for a long moment. He smiles, turning back to shaving as he knows Keith is lost in thought.

It isn’t until Hunk is washing up that Keith speaks. “Mom lied,” he says quietly. Hunk straightens, worry tightening his features as he dries his face with a warm, white towel. “The Galra are _definitely_ intense. Success or death, success or death. Did you know self-discipline is sometimes taught to children by setting their favorite toys on _fire?!_ ”

At that, Hunk snorts out a relieved laugh, turning on his heel and whipping the towel over his bare shoulder. His feet pad lightly against the cool floor as he makes his way over to the bed, sitting at the edge and pulling Keith’s feet into his lap to gently massage them.

“Maybe that’s just the on-the-surface, beginner baby stuff,” Hunk offers with a grin. “You gotta pass the tutorial before getting to the main boss.”

“Hunk, you know I never understand your video game references, and I never— what is _that?”_ Keith stops mid sentence as soon as he looks up at Hunk, eyes widened.

“What?” Hunk asks innocently, lifting his hand from Keith’s foot to his own face, thumb and index finger brushing down his facial hair, now neatly trimmed into a moustache and goatee. “It’s hard to have to stay clean all the time. This is just…easier.”

Keith keeps his stare poignant, not looking away as he presses the small button on his holo-screen to put the text away. The text slips away with a small _blip_ and Keith lets his hands drop to either side of him on the mattress. Eyebrows raised, mouth slightly agape, he takes in a sharp breath, holds it, and lets it out with a considering hum.

“Oh, come on! I didn’t say anything when you cut _your_ hair into that— whatever that is. Undercut thingy,” Hunk says, embarrassment lifting his voice an octave. “It’s not _that_ bad!” He turns away a little, hand lingering over his mouth, petting his facial hair. His face is pink.

“It’s not,” Keith’s words come out slow, soft, sweet. “I like it.”

Hunk feels a small, familiar shiver run down his spine. That voice…

He turns his gaze back to Keith lying back on the bed, hands behind his head, bottom lip caught in his teeth in a lazy smile. Of all the images in Hunk’s mind, this is one that he would never, ever get used to. Keith, the handsome, strong, leader of the paladins of Voltron…gazing at him with the most relentless, bedroom, come hither eyes. It’s enough to send Hunk straight to space hospital.

Something is different now, though. Something strong, alluring like nothing Hunk has ever felt before. His heart beats a bit recklessly, fluttering against his ribcage hard enough to make him take in deep breaths. And _Keith_. Keith looks delicious. Keith shifts a little and lifts his shirt off, tossing it off to the side and smiles at Hunk, waiting. Hunk can practically feel his mouth watering, desperate to taste. Call it the excitement of a new place, or the fact that it’s been three weeks since their last time. Whatever it is, Hunk kinda…likes it.

Keith lifts his leg, hooking his foot around the back of Hunk’s neck and tugging him forward. Hunk can’t help but laugh, slipping around Keith’s hold and climbing fully onto the bed. “Weirdo,” he smiles as he lowers his lips to Keith’s and slips the towel off his shoulder, letting it drop forgotten onto the floor. “C’mere…”

Keith hums into the kiss, still smiling, and brings his hands up to Hunk’s hair, raking his fingers through it. The prickle of Hunk’s facial hair scratches and Keith can’t help but think it might take some getting used to. But it isn’t enough to hinder the growing heat in his belly. He breathes in deeply, pulling Hunk in for more, tasting as much as he can.

His hands leave Hunk’s hair, trailing down his back, finger-tips pressing into the hardness of his muscles. They lower to Hunk’s black briefs, fingers easily dipping underneath the elastic band.

“Off,” Keith pants, pressing more feverish kisses to Hunk’s jawline and throat, and Hunk obliges, sitting back on his heels for a moment to shimmy out of his underwear. Keith glances down, eyeing Hunk-- already half-hard-- and grins inwardly. A small shiver of delight buzzes through him; knowing he has that affect on Hunk is always exhilarating.

“You too,” Hunk’s voice rasps, heavy with want and heat. “Don’t make me bashful now.”

Keith chuckles lightly, putting his hands over Hunk’s, guiding them to his hips. Hunk takes the silent instructions easy enough, and hooks his fingers into the elastic of Keith’s underwear, pulling them down over his thighs. Keith arches upward, letting Hunk pull the fabric off. Before Hunk has a chance to toss them himself, Keith yanks them from his grip and practically launches them across the small room.

“What the hell?” Hunk laughs and looks around to see where they landed. His distracted gaze is not appreciated, as he soon discovers, since Keith suddenly wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him down into a heated, desperate kiss. “Woah, Keith-- _mmf!”_

A rush explodes through Hunk-- adrenaline or whatever is closest to it pumping through his veins as his hands find their way back to Keith’s body. Keith is warm to the touch, even hotter than usual, and Hunk brings his hands to his blushing arousal, gripping it gently. Keith’s gasp is impossible to miss, head tilting back away from Hunk’s lips as a moan escapes him.

“Eager tonight, hmm?” Hunk asks quietly, this thumb slipping over the wet bead at the slit, slicking it down the length as he slowly starts to pump his hand. He swallows Keith’s desperate moans as his answer, kissing him deeply as he works slowly on his cock. He feels Keith’s legs drop, spreading open for him-- then another rush, his own moan surfacing as he parts from Keith’s desperate lips and lowers, trailing kisses down his shivering torso. He laps at the scars, the small divots of muscle, peppering him with kisses until he reaches Keith’s cock. He hums into a smile when he feels Keith’s slender fingers card through his hair again, gripping it gently and nudging him forward just enough to send chills down his spine and raise goosebumps on his skin.

He takes Keith into his mouth, flattening his tongue on the underside of the shaft, taking in as much as he can and wrapping his hand around what’s left. The heat fills his mouth, slick and messy as he swirls his tongue around the head. He moves rhythmically, sucking and hollowing out his cheeks in the way he knows Keith loves. Keith squirms under Hunk’s hands holding his hips down; the fingers pressed against Keith’s skin are strong and unmoving.

“H-Hunk, enough, that’s fine…” Keith pants again, voice on the verge of breaking. “I don’t want…”

Hunk pulls his mouth off Keith’s cock, its wet trail slicking to his plump lips. He watches as Keith’s hand lifts away from Hunk’s hair, reaching over into one of his many bags resting near the bed. He fishes around in it with impatience that makes Hunk grin.

“What _do_ you want?” Hunk asks, grin growing even wider when he hears Keith swear softly under his breath, feels him tremble.

When Keith’s hand finds purchase at what he needs, he wastes no time. He tosses it directly toward Hunk, hitting him square in the forehead. Hunk doesn’t even flinch. “Please, Hunk. I’m not gonna say it,” is all Keith allows Hunk to pry from him, begging-wise.

“You got it,” Hunk replies, snapping the bottle of lube open and squirting the contents into his hand, warming it on his fingers. He puts his dry hand on Keith’s thigh, pushing it upward, spreading him a little even as Keith is already doing so. He relishes the noises Keith makes when he pushes a single digit in, stretching slowly and carefully. It’s always been the way they do these things; taking time, careful not to hurt. He curls his finger, pressing and searching, slipping it out and in once again.

“H-Hunk…” Keith says his name like a prayer and it sends shivers through Hunk, his cock twitching. He lets Keith’s leg rest on his shoulder, bringing his free hand to his own cock, stroking it languidly as he works his finger into Keith. He puts a second digit in after a while, scissoring him open, coaxing out more gasping moans that Hunk wants to drink up.

Keith’s hips press down onto Hunk’s fingers, head tilting up to find Hunk’s gaze. He does, and it’s fiery— brown irises all but disappearing behind a pool of black, blown pupils. Keith’s own vision blurs a moment when he feels the pressure of a third finger, slipping in and out slowly, the soft burn of stretching all too good. His expression tightens, mouth dropping open as his eyes screw shut, hand gripping the edge of the small mattress and digging his nails into the sheets.

“You,” Keith suddenly whispers.

“Hmm?”

“You,” he repeats, forcing himself to open his eyes again to look at Hunk. “I want _you_. Give it to me.” He shivers when he feels Hunk’s fingers slip out of him, leaving him wet and aching, wanting.

“Woah— Keith, your eyes—“

“ _Hunk!_ ” Keith growls.

When Hunk lifts Keith’s legs, pressing his cock to Keith’s twitching hole, Keith feels himself smile, letting out a relieved sigh— relieved of what? He can’t say. He lets his head fall back onto the pillows, and Hunk pushes in, slowly until he bottoms out, giving Keith time to adjust. A strangled moan leaves Hunk in a shaking breath, and he tips forward, cupping Keith’s jaw in his hand and kissing him.

The first few thrusts are always clumsy; it’s just a fact of life for Hunk. But it isn’t anything Keith has ever or would ever, ever complain about. The sensation of Hunk filling him, tight and hot, is enough to have Keith seeing stars. Hunk cants his hips forward, pushing in and pulling out awkwardly until he finds his rhythm. Keith hums with each thrust, moaning into the kiss before it’s too much and he has to pull his lips away. He gasps against Hunk’s cheek, that damn goatee prickling against his skin.

Hunk lets them fall into a comfortable pace, the soft sounds of heavy breaths and slapping skin filling the warm air. The heat beneath his skin rises, boiling in the pit of his stomach as he brings his hands to Keith’s ankles, gripping them with almost bruising strength.

The surprised yelp that Keith lets out makes Hunk laugh, almost— he knows better than to ruin the mood with his childish humor. The growing urge within him is too great to ignore, anyway. He lifts Keith, holding him forward as he adjusts their position; then he quickens his pace, pounding into him more fervently, gaining more and more noises that echo his own.

Keith’s hand slips between them, gripping his own weeping cock and stroking himself as best he can in time with Hunk’s thrusts. Their movements grow more desperate, wild, and the bed begins to rock with the exertion.

“Like that,” Keith gasps, opening eyes he hadn’t realize he’d closed again. He searches for Hunk’s gaze, and it’s on him, always him. “ _There_.”

“You’re so good, s-shit—” Hunk’s brows curve into an almost worried expression, one Keith loves to savor. He knows it's when Hunk is close. He’s so handsome, practically silhouetted in the soft light of the room. And with that facial hair, he looks older; mature in a way that suddenly has Keith clenching around Hunk’s cock, wanting more.

“I-inside,” Keith says over a moan; he doesn’t even recognize his voice as he says it. “Cum ins—”

“What?” Hunk gasps back, his hands leaving Keith’s ankles and coming to Keith’s face, cupping them gently despite the primal rocking of his hips. “I don’t have…a c-condom on.” He’s finding it harder and harder to think cohesively, if he even is now.

“ _Inside,”_ Keith repeats as he brings his hand to Hunk’s, squeezing it. He wraps his legs around Hunk’s waist, canting his hips upward to meet his thrusts.

The short sob of a moan Hunk lets out is like electricity through Keith’s entire body. Hunk stills above him, spilling into Keith hot and full. A throaty groan follows and he brings his lips to Keith’s, kissing and panting heavily into his mouth.

Keith cums shortly after, clenching around Hunk, and biting at his lower lip as he feels his entire body tense. The waves of pleasure wrack his body, shivers and pulses until he completely stills again, falling limp, sinking into the bed. The sweat on his skin touching the sheets feels cool, welcomed. Hunk droops above him, letting himself lower and lay practically on top of Keith. His chest heaves as his lungs attempt to regain all the oxygen lost. They both lie there, letting their hearts readjust to normal beats as they sink, slowly, into an afterglow.

“Keith?”

There’s no response.

“Keith?” Hunk tries again, louder, a hand smacking Keith’s arm that’s slung over Hunk’s chest.

“Muh?”

“You can’t fall asleep.”

“Muh.”

“Keith, you need to clean--” Hunk laughs and turns in the entirely-too-small bed. The shift almost causes Keith to fall off, which sends his free arm flailing, and he slaps down onto the short bedside table. Hunk flinches, mouth forming into an o-shape. “Sorry!”

The faux-grumpy glare Hunk receives is anything but threatening. One side of Keith’s hair is sticking up, static-riddled from the bed. Hunk can’t help but find it incredibly endearing, and he’s leaning forward, kissing Keith gently, slowly, before he knows it. The happy little hum Keith makes Hunk smile into the chaste kiss.

“Wanna hear something kinda cool?” Hunk says in a whisper, holding his lips just millimeters away from Keith’s.

“What’s that?”

“Your eyes did the thing.”

“The what— they _did?_ ” Keith blinked, trying to get his brain back to functioning. It’s always hard to do that after sex with Hunk. He has that affect on him.

Among other things. Other _curious_ things.

“Yellow and everything,” Hunk says, almost smugly.

“Weird…” Keith purses his lips in thought. He sits up, looking back at Hunk over his shoulder, squinting. “Have they done that before?”

“Hmm, no,” Hunk’s voice trails upward into a questioning intonation. “I’m just getting _that_ good?” He grins proudly, which earns him a flick to the nose.

“Your goatee…” Keith doesn’t even finish his thought. He simply slips from the bed, leaving Hunk laughing and crawling after him.

\--

Hunk slips out of Keith’s small, metallic hut, into the dark of the night, hopefully not stirring anyone awake. His body feels heavy, craving sleep. Keith had wanted Hunk to stay with him tonight, but they’d both known that only two outcomes would’ve been imminent with a bed that small: Keith smothered, or Keith shoved off the bed.

So, into the night Hunk goes.

The planet where the colony is located has two moons, which Hunk has commented on many times— the coolness and insaneness of it, that is. He glances up at the moons, smiling in their whitewashed light. Despite having traveled the galaxy, the universe, Hunk never gets used to sights like this. The endless expanse above them that holds countless lives and stories, horrific beauty and breathtaking tragedy…and they saved it. Protected it.

Hunk should’ve known that staring up into the stars like a lovesick teenager would get him into trouble one day.

“Oof—” His breath leaves him as he bumps into a large mass, bouncing off it like a bungee cord. “Sorry! Oh.”

He looks up at Tulruk’s foreboding form, arms crossed and quirked eyebrow pointed downward at Hunk.

“Tulruk!” Hunk says, playing it off cool. “What are you doing out here, buddy?”

“Late night training,” he simply says. His eyes narrow and he leans downward, pushing his face close to Hunk’s in a way that should definitely not scare Hunk as much as it does— not at his age, dammit! “What are _you_ doing out this late?”

Hunk opens his mouth, takes in a deep breath, closes his lips taught and widens his eyes, looking away.

Silence.

He’s not very good at lying. Never has been, probably never will be. He usually leaves the lying up to Lance. He looks back at Tulruk, watching as those yellow eyes flicker beyond Hunk, toward Keith’s hut, and then back at him. It is then that Hunk realizes he is literally only in his underwear. He presses his lips into a tighter, thinner line, nodding. It was all he thought to bring with him after his shower and shave, and then he’d gotten distracted and…well, you know.

Tulruk’s eyebrows could have their own web-series: so expressive, so quirky. “You are coming from Ser Keith’s sleeping chambers,” Tulruk says, using the universal title of small honor that Hunk has already learned in Galran. “In your…undergarments.”

“You are _very_ perceptive,” Hunk tries flattery at this point, because why not? “You must be the detective in your family! Does your brother know how--”

Tulruk rears up, his hands on his hips, his chest expanding a little in a way that suddenly gives Hunk chills. “Are you _courting_ Ser Krolia’s offspring?” he bellows, face hidden in shadow from the moon.

“Well, courting is kinda, I mean, if you _had_ to call it something, I guess—“

_“Without proving yourself worthy of his affection?!”_

“I’m sorry…what?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh ohhhh, Hunk!! You in twoubleee


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith learns about traditional clothing, Hunk gives in to Tulruk's....suggestion.

The old Galra woman’s hands are steady, even as she threads the minuscule needle with laser-like precision. Keith stands in awe, Krolia beside him with a smile across her features. The intricate details in the tunic the woman’s sewn represent different important attributes. Strength, perseverance, self-discipline, _inner_ strength. Loyalty. Love.

Krolia points out each color and geometric pattern and explains their meaning as well as the association with Galra custom, ethos, or history. Keith listens in earnest, nodding along as he learns these small details, pressing them into his memory. The elder lifts the fabric up. “Go on, dear,” she says with a quivering voice.

Keith’s eyes widen a little, hands tentatively grabbing the tunic. He glances to his mother. “Can I?”

Krolia smiles, nodding her head forward. “Of course.”

Keith eagerly slips off his sweater, keeping his white undershirt on as he shrugs into the short tunic. It lies nicely over his shoulders, trailing down past his hips; the end seam is a little higher on the sides than in the middle. Keith steps aside, holds his arms out and looks down at himself. He turns around, checking out the details on the back.

“And this goes under the armor?” he asks excitedly, like a little kid in a toy store.

“Sometimes,” Krolia explains as she reaches over to Keith, helping him slip onto a short length, black and red, high collared overcoat that gathers on the right side with a small, black broach. She turns Keith, her large hands resting on his arms gently before moving to the bundle of fabric on Keith’s right side. “But this is more an everyday cloth. There.” She finishes pinning the broach and takes a small step back.

Keith, smiling still, puffs his chest proudly and feels happy warmth grown within his chest. The day was a little chilly, and his sweater had been doing just fine, but the clothing he wears now works _so_ much better. It’s lightweight, so he assumed it wouldn’t be enough, but it’s surprisingly warm. He looks over to the elder, who has stood up with her hands behind her back, and grins wide.

“Can I buy this?” he asks with stars in his eyes. “I need to have it.”

The elder laughs and waves her hand. “Oh dear, just take it please. It’s the least I can do.” Her grey-purple cheeks deepen in color, blushing and flattered by Keith’s excitement.

“I-I couldn’t,” Keith says. “I can’t just take it for free.”

“Keith,” Krolia shakes her head, clicking her tongue. “It’s rude to reject a gift.”

“But I’ll do something for you in return,” Keith insists, turning his attention back to the elder. Krolia looks at her son; her eyebrow quirked but a smile growing on her lips. “It’s Galra tradition to pay back a debt, and it’s only reasonable that I do a favor for your favor.”

“Oh, well,” the elder blushes further, surprised by the outsider’s knowledge. She cups her own cheek cutely. “If you say so. I suppose I could think of something. Thank you, dear.”

Krolia crosses her arms, shifting her weight to one foot as she watches her son, donned in traditional Galra clothing rather than war armor, help an elder carry her things back to her hut. She watches Keith’s back for a while, eyes scanning his broad shoulders; shoulders that have carried so much for so long. She wipes the tear away, clearing her throat before following in silence.

“Your son is quite a gift. Everyone seems to have grown a liking to him,” Zandar appears at Krolia’s side, stepping in time with her, his hands behind his back. He glances sidelong at her, yellow eyes considering. “It’s rare for a half-blood to exhibit such one sided genes, however. Earth… _Human_ , was it?”

“Yes,” Krolia looks up at Zandar, careful not to fully turn her head toward him, only eyes. “What about it?”

“It’s just curious, is all.” Zandar shrugs, a knowing smile stretching his lips. He looks forward, watching Keith and the elder chat, others joining them and happily exchange words with Keith. Krolia can’t shake her suspicion, her mind files through her options.

“He’s just a late bloomer,” Krolia decides to say. She hears Zandar chuckle beside her and her face blooms with embarrassed heart.

“Extremely late, I would say. That’s why I’m wondering about the human genes; they could be suppressing it. That could have adverse effects, you know. Make him _susceptible_.”

“My kin’s business is his own, Zandar.”

“Alright alright, I meant no offense Ser Krolia. I apologize.”

\--

Hunk lets out a loud grunt, hoisting the large power core above his head and sliding it onto the grid of shelves. His sleeves have long been cut off, despite the slight chill in the air, and his arm muscles glisten as they tighten at the exertion. He lets out a sigh, stepping back and clapping his hands together to rub them.

“You are strong,” Hunk hears the familiar gruff of Tulruk’s voice call out from behind him, along with a metallic clang that undoubtedly means he’s probably messing something up again. With his back turned, Hunk rolls his eyes. Tulruk adds, “But I’m telling you, strength isn’t enough.”

“You’re _still_ talking about that?” Hunk asks incredulously as he turns around to see that Tulruk’s big butt has bumped some elements out of line. He lets out an exasperated noise and stomps his way over, ignoring the way Tulruk gives him a shit-eating grin when he steps out of the way. Hunk quickly gets to work, unhinging the cover and it makes a small hissing noise as it releases. His hands grab onto a series of wires, holographic screens pop up, alerting safety warnings that he bypasses with a simple input of code. Hunk’s eye twitches as he feels Tulruk’s ever-present…presence. “What?”

“I’m just saying Hunk,” Tulruk keens, “It is tradition.”

Hunk hisses through clenched teeth, finishing his work and puts the metallic shell cover back on. He stands back and wipes his hands on his pants. “It’s not _our_ tradition, besides Keith doesn’t care about that stuff.”

“Oh?” Tulruk raises his eyebrows, glancing over his shoulder beyond some huts, line of sight going further than Hunk can see.

Hunk figures he’ll probably kick himself later for giving in, but he sighs and walks up to Tulruk’s massive form, looking in the same direction his Galra friend is. Hunk’s eyes widen as he sees Keith walking with the locals of the colony, dressed in what Hunk can only assume to be Galran cloth. He seems happy; eyes bright and teeth showing in a brilliant smile. He looks so…in his element. Usually swarms of people make Keith nervous, and he tends to shut down a little. But now? Hunk’s never seen that type of openness from Keith, except maybe when he’s appeasing fans and signing an autograph or two. Hunk watches as a few tiny Galra, children, come up to Keith and he kneels down. The girl who has yet to grow into her ears gestures wildly, kicking and punching into the air while saying something in Galran that Hunk can’t understand.

Keith tilts his head back, laughing at what the little Galra girl says and pats her on the head. He responds in Galran too, a little slower than the little girl, but well enough that causes Hunk’s eyebrows to lift.

“Wow, he,” Hunk breathes. “He looks really happy...” His gaze drops to his feet, brows knitting in thought.

Tulruk leans closer to Hunk, his tone like a song. “So? Do you wanna make this official or what?”

“I do,” Hunk stands up straighter, lips pursed in a dedicated pout. He looks up at his giant friend and nods curtly. “Teach me.”

The toothy grin that stretches Tulruk’s features looks like a shark’s and his yellow eyes gleam. “Good.”

\--

Keith opens the door to Hunk’s hut later that day. The sun’s gotten low in the sky, and the two moons begin to peak over the horizon. Keith had been running around all day, he’d hardly spoken to Hunk that day. It’s to be expected; it’s not even the first time they’ve been too busy to interact. It is just part of the job; being the defenders of the universe and all…and now defenders of the…well, still the universe but there’s less _emergency._

“Hunk?” Keith calls into the dark of the hut. There’s no response, but there is an amazing smell wafting in the air. Something Hunk must’ve cooked…or something. It sends shivers through Keith and he brings his hand to the door frame, gripping it tightly, not realizing the scratches his claws put into the metal. Keith blinks hard, shaking his head to clear his mind. “Must be more tired than I thought…”

He makes his way into the hut, the door closing behind him with a small mechanical whir. He turns around, plopping down onto Hunk’s bed to pull of his boots. He tosses them aside and lays back, arms splayed on either side of him. He stares up at the ceiling, mind wandering to the events of the days past and those to come. He thinks back about Earth, wonders what everyone is getting up to. Hunk and he haven’t contacted anyone really, maybe it is time to. He’s certain Shiro is chomping at the bit to hear from them both.

Keith turns onto his side, gaze dropping to the tunic and overcoat he wears. His fingers come to the fabric, pinching it and feeling the soft, intricate stitches. He feels his energy begin to fade, the business of the day finally catching up to him. Keith turns, pressing his nose against the sheets and breathing in deeply. He lets out his breath with a long hum. Hunk’s bed smells good. Really good. Keith wonders if he washed the sheets recently. He turns fully onto his side, curling his legs close as he grabs the sheets, wrapping them around himself and burrowing. He takes deep breathes, filling himself with the scent that has his mind spinning.

It isn’t until he wakes up and hears the mechanical whir of the door opening that Keith realizes he fell asleep. He’s still in his clothes, wrapped in blankets, and he feels entirely too warm. His forehead feels clammy and he kicks away the covers, sitting up and rubbing his eye.

“Hunk?” he says sleepily. In the dark, he sees the silhouette of Hunk freeze. “What time is it?” He glances down at his wrist, pressing the small switch that _blips_ the holo-screen up with the clock on it. It’s well past 2 am. Keith’s eyes widen.

“Uh, is it that late already?” Hunk laughs nervously, still staying in shadow. “That is so _strange.._.Time, man.”

“Why are you getting in so late?”

“Oh, you know, things.”

“…Things…” Keith repeats skeptically, thick brow quirking real high.

“Yep. Like, colony things, you know?”

Keith sits up straighter, squinting into a suspicious glare. Hunk’s acting weird, weirder than normal—oh you get what I mean. It isn’t until Keith hears a small plop in the silence of the hut that he stands and rushes over to Hunk.

“What’s going on, Hunk?” he asks with a tad bit of frustration but mostly worry coating his words. His hands reach out to grab Hunk’s arms, feeling a coat of something slimy and cold. He retracts out of instinct, shaking them. “What’s—”

“I can _totally_ explain,” Hunk’s voice is placating, as much as he can.

Keith furrows his brows and glares down at his hand, covered in mud. His eyes squint even further, mouth curling in a confused yet grossed out snarl. He looks back up at Hunk, who has finally stepped into the soft light near the bed. Hunk is absolutely covered head to toe in dark brown mud; a few twigs and leaves sticking to him. His hair looks like a rat’s nest and he’s _dripping_. There’s mud in his facial hair!

“Hunk, what the hell?” Keith says as he takes a cautious step back. He can smell the soil on Hunk, stark and dank against the once sweet smelling aroma of the hut. Since when his sense of smell was so good, Keith didn’t know, but what he _does_ know is: he hates this new scent. Hunk doesn’t smell like himself. He doesn’t have the strength to stop himself, he plugs his nose. “Ugh, you reek!”

“Wrestling,” Hunk’s singular word vibrates into the still air after a moment of silence. Keith keeps his nose plugged, eyeing Hunk curiously and quirking an eyebrow again. Hunk continues as he steps out of his muddy boots. “Y’know, ritual dueling! Test of strength and all that.”

“Oh,” is all Keith replies, finally lowering his hand from his nose, letting it fall limply to his side. Ritual dueling is probably a thing, he decides. He realizes his mind is still probably fuzzy from sleep. But… “In the mud?”

“It masks the body, leaving only the man and his power to shine!” Hunk lifts his arm, fist clenching and bicep flexing. Keith’s never seen Hunk’s muscles coated in mud before. The way they glisten with that dark, goopy slime. Some parts have dried up and they crack off when he flexes. It’s kinda nice.

“O-oh.”

“I like your outfit,” Hunk says, dropping his hands to his hips. The grin on his face tells Keith he totally noticed him staring. Keith goes warm again. “I’d like it better if it were off of you.”

“Ugh, gross,” Keith smiles as he turns quickly on his heels, still blushing. He wants to play hard to get. “No way! Not when you smell like _that!_ ”

“I’ve smelled worse! Remember that garbage planet?”

“That wasn’t a planet. That was an actual garbage dump floating in space.”

“Just shut up and let me kiss you!”

“Never!”

Hunk is quick to the chase, which in turn causes Keith to run away faster. In circles they go, for who knows how long. The small crashing sounds and laughter can be heard even in the nearby huts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiiiii sorry this took a while to post. I went on vacation and got really sunburnt. Enjoy! Next chapter will be up real soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith learns some more Galra stuff! Hunk...learns...other things.

Krolia holds out her blade, the soft purple glow it radiates fills the dimly lit room, bouncing off all surfaces. Keith sits cross-legged, hands in his lap, back straight. He watches his mother swing the blade in swift movements; cutting the air in sharp thrusts.

“The blade has been the weapon of choice for Galra for centuries,” Krolia explains, eyes glinting in the purple light. She moves swiftly, footsteps barely making a sound as she demonstrates. “Which you know already. But somewhere along the line, we lost our tradition. Abandoning the efficiency of the sword and dagger for more _biological, magical_ weapons—destruction became more important.”

Keith takes in a deep breath, letting it out in a soft sigh as he let his gaze drop to his hands. He clenches his fists. The universe has gone through so much pain, so much destruction. All at the hands of the Galra. No, at the hands of Zarkon and his delusions; at Lotor’s fanatic ploys. The selfish, unregulated drive for power is what lead the universe into disarray. Keith knows this all too well. His friends known it well too. They all fought for years to right it. Feels weird now knowing that the universe, and all its inhabitants, can finally make the climb to rehabilitation.

“So that’s why you joined the Blade of Marmora?” Keith finally asks, looking up at his mother who shrinks her blade back to its dormant dagger shape, sitting on the floor across from him. “Because it resembled the old ways? What the Galra spirit is supposed to be?”

Krolia smiled, a bit solemnly, glancing down at the blade in her hands. “Something like that. The Blade of Marmora took what the Empire started and…attempted to right it. The drive for knowledge instead of victory.”

There is a moment of pause between the two, silence filling the air. Krolia studies her dagger a little longer before taking in a deep breath and looking back up at her child. “Well, like history has taught us, the Galra aren’t a perfect people. But we _are_ more than blood-thirsty buffoons that the past centuries have crafted us to be.”

“It’s sad,” Keith elects to say, causing Krolia to give him a confused look. He stands, walking over to the wall that holds antiques and weaponry alike. His fingers brush against the cold metals, wondering which are metals that can be found on earth and which are impossibly rare like luxite. “The Galra lost so much, even before the war, but the universe still plays them off as mere villains.”

“Life isn’t a storybook,” Krolia simply responds, standing too and walking over to accompany her son. “Happy endings take more than just a few pages.”

“Story or not,” Keith says, turning to his mother and wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace. “I’m proud to be Galra.”

“You’re human too,” Krolia says after a small laugh. She places her warm hand on the top of Keith’s head, resting it there lovingly. “You’re so much like your father. Don’t forget that you are two halves of something amazing.”

They stand there in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Keith suddenly has a thought. His eyes widen and he pulls away, not unkindly, from his mother. He keeps his hands on her arms, squeezing them in earnest. “That reminds me,” he says. “Do you know anything about halves?”

“I’m—what?” Krolia blinks, mouth stuck in a small "o" shape. “What do you mean?”

“I’m half Galra, half human. I know things about my human body, but what about my Galra one?”

“Oh!” There is a short, odd pause. Keith’s gaze narrows on his mother. She eventually speaks again. “K-Keith, you don’t need to worry about that. Your human genes are stronger than your Galra ones—not saying my genes _aren’t_ strong, it’s just your father’s were stronger, I guess.” Krolia blushes a little, folding her arms across her chest and turning away in sudden defense. She clears her throat, suddenly serious. “Galra biology doesn’t seem to be playing a role in your development.”

Keith begrudgingly accepts this answer from his mother, but even as she turns away to show him some more ritualistic blade work, he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut. The memory of what Hunk said about his eyes rings in his mind. Have his human genes really asserted all dominance within his body? Or are there some things lurking?

\--

“All the way up there?” Hunk asks weakly, his eyes trained upward toward the seemingly endless expanse of a mountain. The highest rock cluster is hidden behind misty clouds. He gulps when he hears some creature screech into the air, echoing menacingly. Tulruk nudges him forward, roughly, and he stumbles a bit, feet catching on the loose gravel.

“Yes, the peak.”

“And that’s according to _tradition?”_  Hunk asks again, making double, triple, and quadruple sure. 

“Look man,” Tulruk says, picking up on some of Hunk’s phrases. “Courtship is integral. It’s as old as our race. If you want to prove your worth to your mate, you gotta find the highest peak and profess your love to the winds.”

Hunk slowly looks at Tulruk as well as his other new Galra friend, (who is less imposing than Tulruk, smaller and more stout, but just as exasperating) Sarnya. Hunk gives them both a questioning, disbelieving look, to which the two glance at each other and then look back at Hunk. In unison, they shrug, pouting their lower lips and offering no further comment.

“Okay, fine. I’ve done the mud wrestling of potential rivals,” Hunk counts on his fingers. “Thanks by the way Sarnya,” Sarnya nods, her toothy grin a stark white compared to her lavender skin. “And then I have to do the marking bite—which I can, um, do later. So, this is the last thing, right?”

Tulruk’s lips press into a thin line, quiet for a long enough moment that causes Hunk to narrow his eyes.

“Yep!” Sarnya steps in, nodding wildly. “Once you’ve reached the peak, you just profess your undying love, proclaiming how you’d rather die than give him up, and then let out your strongest battle cry!”

Hunk lets out a tired sigh, but his expression is set in determination. If this is what the Galra do, then he’d do it. Keith’s been over the moon(s), learning about his heritage, who was Hunk to put a damper in that excitement? This way, their relationship can be more legitimate. Hunk may not understand the odd courting customs of Galra culture, but he does understand his feelings for Keith. He loves him with all of his heart. It’s an unbridled, unwavering love that’s struck down to Hunk’s very soul, taken root, and cemented there until he’s dead and decayed.

Well that turned weirdly grim.

Hunk, shaking off the odd reverie, steps to the cliff side, grabbing a protruding stone and testing its strength. When he gets a foot up, Tulruk suddenly blurts, “Don’t forget to take off your clothes!”

“You have _got_ to be joking,” Hunk says incredulously, hopping off the cliff side, glaring at the rocks. He looks over his shoulder at them, glaring still. “You’re definitely making that up!”

Tulruk and Sarnya shake their heads, again in unison.

“Nudity is nothing to be ashamed of,” Tulruk explains with a lift of his hand, palm up.

“Shedding your clothes is a sign of absolute strength—you will rely on nothing but your own self determination to get up to that peak,” Sarnya adds with wild, theatrical gestures and pointing.

“You can keep your undergarments on,” Tulruk continues with a grin. “You don’t seem to have a problem walking around in them anyway.”

Hunk sighs, groaning as he turns around to face them fully and lifts his shirt off. When his face is hidden behind the fabric, Tulruk and Sarnya exchange glances, a small hint of blushes across their features as they look back at his dark, smooth skin, the lightning shaped scar across his broad, muscular chest. And when the wind blows, prickling Hunk's skin with goosebumps, he begins to regret his dedication. He doesn’t stop though. He strips down to his underwear, shivering a bit as he steps out of his pants and kicks them to the side. What he wouldn’t give to be back on the beach, throwing Pidge at Lance like a battering-ram, or sipping on homemade lemonade under an umbrella with Keith at his side. “Here goes nothing,” he says over his shoulder. He then grabs the rocks again and begins to climb.

“ _Vrepit sa_ ,” Tulruk says languidly with a hand lifted to his curved mouth.

Hunk climbs higher and higher, hand slipping only a couple times before getting the hang of it. He scales the rocky wall pretty, impressively quick; strong arms and legs pushing him ever higher, back muscles taught. He makes free-climbing a cliff-side look _easy._

When Hunk is well above them, out of sight in the thick brush against the mountain, Tulruk and Sarnya burst into a fit of laughter. Tears bud at the corners of their eyes. Tulruk punches rapidly against Sarnya’s arm while she grabs onto his chest, gasping for air and fears falling completely over.

\--

Keith smiles down at the various, oddly colored fruits in the basket. He lifts one to his face, smelling the sweet aroma and wonders what it could be used for. He puts the fruit back down, stepping further down the line of small shops. His breath comes out in small white clouds in front of his mouth and he shivers. It’s getting colder and colder on the colony. He makes a mental note to grab a seasonal calendar from the colony’s council before getting to work tomorrow.

Krolia had taught him so much today. It was more or less a day off, and Keith used every minute of it to learn. She had been oddly distracted after Keith asked her about his biology—but Keith decided to drop it. He’s way past _The Talk_ age anyway. Shiro had been the one to give him the human version of it. Boy, that did not go well. Whoever thought using puppets was a good idea is out of their mind. Whatever book Shiro undoubtedly read that in, Keith had made a lifelong promise to find it and burn it. Regardless, Krolia did not seem to be interested in talking about it. Keith supposes it’s just something that doesn’t matter. It’s not like it’s something that keeps him up at night either. It was just a passing thought—with the whole, _eyes and teeth thing_ , that happens every so often. Keith feels like it happens more often as of late…but maybe he’ll ask about that later.

The day is nearing its end; the setting sun paints the sky into a brilliant gradient of purple and orange. The two moons, already raised, start to glow against a soft layer of clouds. Keith smiles, dropping his gaze from the colors above him back to the colors below. He purchases some fruits and veggies, insisting he pay despite the vendor wanting to give them to him for free. He pats the produce in his bag as he makes his way back to his hut, smiling at the thought of giving them to Hunk. Hunk mentioned on their way to the colony that he wants to learn traditional Galra cuisine. He hasn’t had a chance to, Keith’s noticed, being so busy with restoring the various mechanisms throughout the colony. Maybe they could find lessons from the elder. After all, recipes are meant to be shared.

Keith weaves his way through the crowd, apologizing when his shoulder bumps into a stranger’s.  He walks slowly, taking his time and enjoying the moments to himself. Not too much time passes when he feels his eyesight get a little blurry, images doubling for a moment. He sways, dropping his bag of produce and grabbing onto the post of a nearby stand. A round fruit rolls a bit away, passerbys kicking it by accident. His face feels warm, heat prickling underneath his skin. A pressure in his chest causes his breath to have a small wheeze and he brings his hand to his chest, pressing his palm against it. Keith swallows heavily, mouth dry with a weird taste lingering.

Suddenly an echoing yell pierces the cool, dusk air. The people in the marketplace halter their movements, almost like the pause button has been pressed, and an eerie silence overtakes them all. Some exchanged worried glances, other confused. It’s a deep roar, rough and primal.

Keith blinks hard and shakes his head, willing his vision right again and he stands up straight. Brows knitted and expression suspicious, he listens to the bellowing that continues for a good ten seconds. He looks up into the air, rubbing his chest absentmindedly as he tries to discern what the noise could be. It stops, gone silent just as quickly as it mysteriously appeared. And just as quickly, the marketplace booms to life once more. The citizens of the colony don’t seem to mind random outbursts into the heavens apparently.

“Okay?” Keith mumbles, taking a few extra moments to look at the air as if it would reveal the secret. When it doesn’t, he leans down to gather his dropped produce. He ignores the soft palpitating of his heart.

\--

“Has your son experienced heat?” Zandar says as he pours Krolia a cup of hot tea. His yellow gaze flickers through his dark lavender lashes, eyeing her carefully.

“I thought I made myself clear,” Krolia says defensively, pulling away her cup as soon as Zandar is finished pouring. “My son’s privacy is exactly that. Private.”

“Fair enough. But there is one other thing on my mind,” Zandar chuckles amusedly, sitting back on his chair and humming. “I understand your concerns, Ser Krolia. Your son is half-blood.”

“I’m _not_ concerned. Keith is fine.”

“But you and I both know the truth about half-blooded Galra, don’t we?” Zandar does not relent in his prodding. Krolia snarls, her lip curling to reveal sharp canines. “Their…unpredictability. Things can trigger aggressive or feral behavior that is supposed to be repressed upon maturity.”

“Yes, I am fully aware of this,” Krolia retorts, sipping her scalding hot tea without as much as a flinch. Her eyes stay on Zandar’s smug smiling face; a face she finds less and less easy to work with. Their time at this colony is almost done though. That’s what she needs to keep telling herself. “Things like battle or intense pain or—”

“Pleasure,” Zandar interjects, leaning back farther in his chair and crossing his legs. “Even something as small as a touch from a loved one.”

“What is your _point_ , Zandar?” Krolia barks out her words, biting them with another snarl.

“I just think it’s a part of Galra heritage Keith would be interested in,” Zandar says as innocently as his snake-like self can. He swirls his tea, looking down at the small bits of leaf that float in it. “I’d be shocked if Keith hasn’t already asked about the more _biological_ side of being Galra. The feral nature of our ancestors is something a lot of our customs are rooted in; even our battle cry draws inspiration from it.”

Krolia is silent for a while. She looks down at her own drink, glares at it. “What I decide to teach my son about Galra is my decision and mine alone.”

“Of course.”

\--

Hunk tilts his head back against the pillows, mouth agape in a short moan. The beaded sweat on his brow finally falls over his eyes and he blinks it away. His hand falls between his legs, softly carding his fingers in Keith’s hair. He brings his hand to the back of Keith’s bobbing head, brushing the buzzed hair up and down, petting him. The soft, content hum that Keith gives in response sends shivers up Hunk’s spine.

“Hey,” Hunk rasps, looking down at Keith who stares up at him through his dark lashes. Keith’s cheeks hollow out, his face blotchy and pink. The image is almost enough to send Hunk over the edge; he shivers again. “C’mere.” He nudges Keith’s mouth off his dick, the lewd slurping noise filtering in the dense air is almost as embarrassing as what Hunk is about to do.

Keith follows Hunk’s directions. He smiles, plump lips glistening with spit, and he climbs up to him and straddles his lap. They press against each other, holding onto one another like their lives depended on it as they lose themselves in a long, deep kiss. Hunk tastes himself on Keith’s tongue, lapping messily and drinking in the soft noises Keith makes. Their kiss parts momentarily, noisy and wet.

“So scratchy,” Keith whispers against Hunk’s lips. “It still feels weird.”

“Admit it, I’m more handsome now,” Hunk replies with a grin. To that, Keith hums happily and drunk with desire. He wraps his arms around the back of Hunk’s neck. They press their lips together again, resuming their slow, passionate kiss. Hunk’s hands trail up Keith’s muscular back, not able to pull him close enough. Hunk then shifts, hands lowering to Keith's ass and pushing Keith toward his own gyrating hips. Keith gasps at the contact, mouthing against Hunk’s lips languidly. Hunk takes this moment to move his lips to Keith’s jaw, kissing and licking as he makes his way down his throat. He sucks on a spot, licking slowly after it bruises.

Keith tilts his head back, allowing for more of his sensitive skin to be peppered with kisses. He smiles gently, eyes closing as he loses himself in his love. The feel of Hunk, strong and thick against him, is always a comfort. Hunk’s lips move against his skin, pressing his tongue against it as he grazes his teeth gently on the soft part at the base of his throat. Keith hums again as he feels Hunk’s kisses trail farther out, tracing his collar bone up to his shoulder. He always likes when—

“OW!!” Keith’s eyes shoot open at the sharp pain. Instinctually, he slaps his hand against Hunk’s arm, pulling away from him harshly. “What the hell are you doing?! What was—did you just _bite_ me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woaaah~ two chapters in ONE day??? I'm so fast aren't I?? (ok, i'm not gonna lie to you all. I had these already written I just had to get internet to post them). Please enjoy these nerds!   
> lol @ hunk


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cats outta da bag

Keith rubs at the sensitive area, finger tips brushing the small indents left by Hunk’s teeth. “You seriously bit me,” he says in disbelief. He sits opposite of Hunk on the bed, staring at Hunk until he is man enough to look back.

Hunk keeps his face buried in his hands, ears impossibly red in embarrassment. He can feel Keith’s eyes burning holes into him but he’s too afraid to look. He’s made a Mistake. “I was just…” he mumbles into his hands.

“What?”

Hunk groans, removing his hands from his face and looking at Keith with a deplorable expression. Keith’s heart clenches a little as he thinks _cute._

“I was consummating our mate bond!”

“…”

“Our mate bond!” Hunk repeats, arms stretched out wide as if he were revealing a new car on a variety show. Keith’s silence sends Hunk’s mind reeling, his heart fluttering wildly. His arms lower a bit and he tries again, albeit less enthusiastic and hopeful. “Our…mate…bond. Shit.” In one, truly embarrassing rush, Hunk suddenly realizes just how utterly ridiculous that sounds.

Ridiculously _fake._

_Son of a bitch!_

“Hunk,” Keith rubs the bite some more before dropping his hand to his lap. “Do you think that’s like a…some sort of Galra mating ritual? Galra are a civilized people, Hunk, not animals. There’s no such—”

“No such thing as a mate bond, yeah I _know_ that now! Dammit, I’m going to kick his ass.” Hunk’s face is hot to the touch, cheeks burning in embarrassment and anger at himself for falling for such an obvious ploy. And what of the other ridiculous things he’s done? Are all those fake too? He assumes yes.

“Whose ass?”

“Tulruk’s,” Hunk grits through his teeth and grabs a pillow to squeeze. “And Sarnya’s too. She’s the one who told me about the Bite Thing in the first place! Argh! I’m an idiot.”

Keith watches Hunk stew in his anger for a while, head tilted in curiosity. The dots in his mind suddenly begin to connect. Keith’s eyes widen and he snaps, pointing at Hunk. “Is that why you were covered in mud? What did you say—‘ritual dueling?’”

“Hn,” Hunk simply pouts, hugging the pillow now and crossing his legs on the bed. Hunk remembers screaming his lungs out on the top of that peak too, practically nude. Keith was right, he really _is_ embarrassing. He hunches his shoulders in a full-on grump position. Keith can’t hold back his small snort, which gains him an icy glare from Hunk. He lifts his hands in surrender, and that thankfully placates the anger.

“What were you listening to that garbage for anyway?” Keith asks after a few short minutes of silence. “And why were they telling you crazy things about Galra courtship in the first place?”

Hunk sighs and holds the pillow tighter; his gaze falls to Keith’s feet. “I dunno,” he says a bit ashamedly, “Tulruk caught me sneaking out of your hut the other day, and he suddenly started spouting all sorts of things about honor and proving myself and..” he waves his hand listlessly in the air. “I don’t know! I just believed it! I thought the Galra had some unique rituals in order to legitimize relationships!”

Keith quirks an eyebrow, trying his very best to keep up with Hunk, but failing. “O…kay, but why would you need to _do_ those things?”

Hunk suddenly looks up at Keith with wide eyes and it startles Keith a bit, his own eyes widening too. Hunk speaks first, incredulously, “Because you…your Galra heritage…”

“Wh—Hunk, you— _what?_ ” Keith is truly lost now and he isn’t hiding it anymore. His brows knit in uncertainty and he shakes his head. His expression bleeds with confusion.

“It’s important to you, right?! You’ve been learning and practicing and _experiencing_. I just thought that maybe I could do something to—I dunno—make our relationship more special to you. I thought that maybe if I did these weird Galra things, I could be a part of your Galra half too.” Hunk pauses for a short moment, sighing and letting his tense shoulders relax. “I want to be a part of everything in your life, Keith.”

“Oh,” Keith says with burning cheeks. His fingers twitch and his stomach does a small leap that has his heart fluttering. He takes a shark inhale, holding it in like a drug before saying, “That’s…really…”

Another silence fills the room. The two sit there, eyeing each other carefully. When more time than he thinks is necessary passes, Hunk scoffs and blushes deeper. He shifts a little, looking away and mumbles. “Well, whatever, I was stupid. Let’s just forget this ever happened and go to bed.”

“Turn around, Hunk.”

“Heh?”

“Turn around,” Keith’s voice practically _purrs_ and it sends shivers down Hunk’s spine. He looks toward Keith and flinches, surprised at what he sees.

“Woah dude, your eyes are doing the thing again! And your teeth…wow,” Hunk says in awe, lifting a hand to point rudely. That rude point is taken between Keith’s lips, sharp teeth biting down just barely enough for pressure. Hunk feels a blush crawl up his neck, warming his entire upper body; not to mention the curious twitch of his dick. His eyes are wide, staring at the display in front of him. Keith sucks on his finger; lustful, wild gaze frozen on Hunk. Hunk feels trapped under that pointed stare. Though trapped may not be the best way to describe it. “Are you…feeling okay?”

“Turn. Around,” Keith says again around Hunk’s finger, giving it another prominent suck before crawling up to Hunk.

\--

The next day brings about the first frost of the season. Tulruk carries a large sack of supplies over his shoulder, whistling to a tune that’s been stuck in his head all morning. He walks through the marketplace with a jovial kick to his step, saying his hellos to the occasional passerby. The colony seems to be getting on a better leg; jumpstarting to a new beginning. He owes a lot to Krolia and the Blade of Marmora for setting this up.

He expects it to be another nice, yet brisk day.

He does not expect someone tackling him straight to the ground.

“You think you’re _soo_ smart, huh?” Hunk says, pinning the massive Galra to the rough, grassy terrain. Tulruk blinks up at him owlishly, surprised no doubt. “I can’t believe you’d trick me like that! I made a complete _ass_ of myself.”

“You made me drop my bag,” Tulruk says sadly, forlorn gaze drifting to the scattered supplies on the ground. Hunk shoves him harder onto the ground, knocking some of the air out of him.

“Where do you get off tricking people like that, hm?” Hunk does not let up. He gives Tulruk another hard shove before stepping off of him and offering him a hand to help him up. Anger aside, Hunk is still a gentleman through and through. Tulruk takes his hand, let’s himself be hoisted up until he’s standing tall again, towering over Hunk.

“Bold of you to assume I get off at all,” Tulruk dusts himself off and gives Hunk a look, quirking his impressive eyebrow.

Hunk shakes his head, waving his hand to dismiss the comment. “Whatever. Look, I caught up to your little game, alright? You’ve been feeding me BS since the beginning. So, don’t even try anything else. I’ve got three more days on this colony and then I’m outta here.”

Tulruk listens, eyes widening when he remembers his series of lies for the past week. It suddenly connects and he tilts his head back, laughing loud into the air. It’s a harsh cackle, one that turns into a cough. Just as he’s about to settle down, he peeps open a watery eye and catches Hunk’s unamused expression and rouses back into a fit of laughter.

“Y-you,” he wheezes, keeling over to rest his hands onto his knees. “You bit him, didn’t you?!” His laughter echoes loudly into the quiet of the morning, mouth agape revealing those impressive, gapped canines. Some marketplace vendors look at him strangely before continuing back with their prep.

Hunk’s cheeks warm, blooming a deep red despite his best efforts. His frown sinks lower on his face, emphasized very nicely with his goatee, eyebrows furrowing. He stumbles a bit when Tulruk’s massive hand lifts and slaps onto his back, slipping onto his shoulder to squeeze it fondly and give him a good shake. Hunk’s nostrils flare and he takes in a deep breath, grinding his teeth.

Tulruk wipes a tear from his golden eye, cooing softly as he finally calms down. He regards Hunk a moment before clearing his throat and straightening up. “Agh, okay look,” he says and turns fully toward Hunk, who crosses his arms. “I’m sorry I messed with you. But it was just too easy! You were so strung up since the moment you stepped off that ship. And it’s so boring here…”

The unrelenting glare Hunk gives him shows Tulruk that he isn’t getting anywhere with that pisspoor excuse. He sighs and brings his hand up to the back of his neck, rubbing it. “I’m sorry, Hunk. That was…cruel of me. You had no reason but to trust me and Sarnya, and we abused that trust. Breaking that is very not-Galra of us.”

Hunk’s expression softens just a bit, brows loosening on his expression. His mouth twitches.

“But you have to admit, we did damn good didn’t we?” Tulruk can’t help it; he snorts and bites back another series of laughter.

Hunk rolls his eyes, unable to suppress his smile. “Alright fine, yeah. You got me good.” He uncrosses his arms, shoving Tulruk in the chest. “Jerk.” He turns around and gathers up the supplies Tulruk had dropped due to Hunk’s impressive tackle. He studies the random parts, squinting as he pieces things together in his mind. “You building some sort of hovercraft?”

Tulruk shrugs, taking the bag from Hunk and hoisting it back over his shoulder. “It’s just something I’ve been working on in my free time,” he explains. “You build?”

Hunk puts his hands on his hips, shifting his weight to one side and puffs his chest proudly. “Repair, mostly. That’s all I have time for nowadays. But I so happen to be the best in probably the entire universe. I put together things _for breakfast._ ”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know!” Hunk says with just as much enthusiasm. He follows Tulruk through the marketplace, discussing the various parts he’d seen in the bag.

“You know I never told you I like this whole _thing_ you’re doing there,” Tulruk comments after a while of amiable chatting. He gestures to his own face, referring to the goatee-mustache combo Hunk has going on. “Makes you look very strong, intense. Very effective for proving your worth for your mate.”

Hunk punches Tulruk in the arm, hard. “Very funny,” he says through a smile.

Tulruk laughs, flinching a little at the surprisingly hard punch; he actually _felt_ it. That’s a first. “I’m serious! I may have been messin’ with ya for most of it, but some of that stuff is real.”

“Yeah right,” Hunk does not sound convinced. His gaze falls to one of the vendors selling some sort of grilled meat. He remembers what he’d said on the ship. He should try and at least gather some recipes before moving on to the next colony. “And exactly which part of it was real?”

“The bond stuff,” Tulruk looks at Hunk in earnest. He laughs only shortly at the look Hunk gives him in return. “I’m being serious! The _mate_ thing was fake, yeah, but the connections between loved ones? That’s very real. Galra are known for their absolutes—victory or death. Well, when it comes to this kind of thing, it’s like…love and be loved. Nothing is more precious than your kin. You protect them at all costs, even if that cost is your life.”

Hunk glances at Tulruk momentarily before looking back out into the increasingly crowded marketplace. “ _That_ I can believe,” Hunk says thoughtfully. His mind goes to Krolia and the sacrifices, albeit regrets now, she’s made. His mind also wanders to Keith. He’d do anything for Keith. Hell, he’s already done so much for him, and he’s willing to do more. And Keith has done so much for him in return. The war had changed them both, for better or worse. Yet they stuck through it, all of them. Not just Keith and him; the whole team. Everyone made it through together. Some more worse for wear than others, but they made it through nonetheless. As the years went on, things just grew; Keith and Hunk clicked. To this day, Hunk can’t deny the strong pull he’s felt to Keith. That special love saved for Keith and Keith alone. It’s something strong, more powerful than Hunk has ever felt. And he knows it’s real. Years of near death experiences, heart-clenching danger has solidified that. Not to mention the shy smiles, the soft kisses, the shared food, the sunsets, the late nights of just the two of them together tangled in bed sheets. Hunk knows it’s real.

It isn’t until the two are back near Tulruk’s hut when Tulruk hears Hunk clear his throat. He’s in the middle of unpacking his supplies, placing the parts onto the little shelving unit he has next to his ragtag, practically-all-spare-parts, hover bike he’s been working on. He looks over his shoulder, eyebrows lifted.

“Can I, uh, ask you something personal?” Hunk’s face his red and Tulruk’s interest is one hundred thousand percent piqued. “About like…Galra stuff.” Hunk adds, probably unnecessarily.

Tulruk takes the dirty rag off his shoulder, wiping down the oily part in his hands and nods. “I’m all ears.”

Hunk takes in a deep breath, debating how he should phrase his words. He lifts his hand to his face, pressing it over his mouth, dragging it downward onto his throat before dropping it to his side once more. His gaze sets on something far away for a moment before finally looking back at his large friend. “Do Galra like…get _intense?”_

Tulruk snorts, “Uh, yeah? What sort of question is that?”

“No! I mean, duh yeah. But I mean like…more in a…y’know…” Hunk flattens his lips, widening his eyes and gesturing and shrugging vaguely. “Romantic way?”

There’s a pause. Tulruk is silent as all cylinders fire in his mind, synapses connecting until it finally clicks. While he’s booting up like a computer from a forgotten age, Hunk progressively blushes deeper and deeper. He turns away, groaning, when Tulruk’s eyes light up and his mouth drops open in a gasp.

“No way,” he drawls. “Has Ser Keith gone feral with you?!”

“Feral?!” Hunk does not like the sound of that. Sure, he wasn’t complaining about it _last_ _night_ …but he had been weak! He is not weak anymore. Nope! “What does that mean?”

“Galra are a unique race,” Tulruk places the spare part on a shelf and takes a seat on some old metal boxes, letting out a small exerted grunt in the process. He looks serious, so Hunk follows suit, eyes wide in interest. “Our ancestors were closer to animals than sentient beings. But some things even evolution can’t get rid of, you know? Like you humans and your…what’s it called? Wisdom teeth. Heh,” he laughs as if implying humans were far too young to be considered wise, but continues anyway. “All Galra children are born with vomeronasal glands that release powerful pheromones. Those pheromones are secreted during optimal procreation periods; and the Galra, before civilization entered the picture, used to use that to attract others and make packs. Galra can sense these pheromones, you know? Like smelling flowers. Anyway, the unbreakable bonds created from those pheromones are actually a theme that persisted in Galra culture. It’s why we are so strong. Sometimes younglings go through it before maturity, like in a heat or something. But once you go through it when you’re little, it’s pretty much gone forever. Sort of like hitting puberty in your race. The average Galra nowadays usually grows out of them and they become basically useless in adulthood. But sometimes…” he glances at Hunk. “The glands are still somewhat active. And for those whose glands aren’t working, it just means that you can take drugs to induce pheromone secretion. It’s mostly a weird kink that you can get satisfied behind a sleazy bar.”

“Woah,” Hunk breathes. “So Keith has like…super sonic smell?”

“What?” Tulruk says with a momentary confused look, shaking his head. “N-no Hunk. Ser Keith is a half-blooded Galra, which if I remember right, can sometimes have trouble with those glands. Sometimes, I think usually, the feral-natured hormones are suppressed by whichever dominant gene is in the half-blood. Can't say I've ever read much about half-blooded Galra/Human combo though. But,” he shrugs noncommittally. “I don’t understand all that biology crap.”

“So, what does it look like? To go feral? The, err, heat thing.” Hunk’s heart beats a little faster in his chest. His curiosity piqued to an embarrassing level. To that, Tulruk shrugs once more.

“Beats me,” he slaps his hands on his knees and stands up once more. “I’m not into any of that stuff. I’ve only read about it in books.” He glances at Hunk for a moment, a small blush touching his cheekbones. “And the details of…I mean whatever is going on between you and Ser Keith is your business. I may be a jerk, but I’m _not_ an asshole.”

With their conversation coming to an end, Tulruk goes back to his hobby and leaves Hunk to sit by himself. Hunk chews his lower lip, gaze falling to the grass as he stays silent for a good long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took longer than usual! I'm moving to Japan on the 28th and my life is positively NUTSO right now


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get a little heated.

The small purple and blue flames flicker delicately in the dimly lit room. Keith’s butt is starting to go numb from sitting on a cushion-less floor for what feels like forever. He keeps his attention keen though, fighting off a yawn with all his strength. When he’d asked his mother to show him more ancient rituals in Galra culture, he’d expected…well, something different. Not that he’s complaining! He’ll openly accept anything; wanting to learn as much as he can before moving on to the next colony.

But it’s just…really difficult to concentrate.

More so than ever before.

Keith jiggles his leg, crossed like a pretzel as he watches the old Galra man light yet another stick of incense. The elder’s hands quiver, holding the blue flame delicately as he moves slower than molasses and mumbles words Keith has long but zoned out. His gaze wanders, falling up toward the ceiling where some of the smoky clouds linger before cascading down like a fog into the room. Krolia explains to him that this is an old ritual, done usually before times of great change—like war or a new reign. The patience and lengthy time it takes to complete has made the ritual less popular as time and technology advanced. But many elders, as well as those interested in history, still attend rituals done for aesthetic purposes more than anything.

The ritual cleanses the blade and the body all in one. The words spoken, not so much a prayer but more of a mantra, bring good tidings and bid well to the endeavors of the strong while simultaneously guarding against those who hold ill will toward your glory.

Keith’s fingernails drum rhymically on the hard floor like tiny galloping horses. His gaze floats for a little while longer before coming to rest on Krolia’s. She’s got that look on her face, stern and disciplinary, you know—a mom face. Keith, despite being a grown man who couldl _totally_ show his mother what-for, smiles sheepishly and mouths an apology before focusing his attention back on the ritual that finally seems to be getting somewhere. 

“This candle, lighting the flame to symbolize eternal glory, much like our leaders upon high, will bring you your own glory in life. Young one,” the elder lifts his shaky hand, palm up and gesturing for Keith to come up. Keith’s eyebrows lift to his hairline and he glances at Krolia. She smiles warmly, nodding and making a small motion with her hands.

“O-okay,” Keith says with a small smile of his own, nerves prickling under his skin. He’s donning the traditional Galra clothing again, freshly washed and pressed. He’d be the first to admit that they are damn comfortable. Hunk had commented how it pulls tight around his chest in all the right ways. Keith had slugged him in the arm for that. His heritage is _not_ something to be ogled at, regardless of how much Keith liked being ogled. He stands and walks over to the elder, feeling a rush to his head. “Do I just…”

The elder has Keith stand in the center, candles lit around him and his blade on the small alter in front of him. He glances down at it. It glows a steady purple in its smaller, dormant state. The elder begins saying more, chanting in Galran, but Keith can’t really focus on it. The incense is really…wow, really strong. It's like he can _feel_ the scent. Is that normal? His armpits feel sweaty. It’s really hot in here.

Keith blinks hard, shaking his head a little, and blinks again but eventually keeps his eyes shut. The candles and lit incense around him filter through the air, making it thick with a dusty smoke that sparkles in the dim light. Keith feels lighter, but an undeniable weight begins to tug in his chest, in his gut. His legs feel weak, the muscles twitching and the bottoms of his feet tingle with needles.

“I don’t…” Keith begins to say, expression taught in confusion, eyes still closed. He can hear some sort of insect buzzing near the edge of the room. Neat. “Feel right.”

“You are just experiencing the cleansing properties of the smoke. It taps into your very core,” the elder says with an almost toothless grin. “Feel that energy within you. Connect with your surroundings, your blade, your kin. With the empire.”

Keith puffs his cheeks, letting out a stuttering breath as he attempts to right his fuzzy mind. It doesn’t seem to help. His stomach turns a little, a small wave of nausea making him let out a tiny groan hidden within a sigh. He wonders what Hunk is doing now. Hmm, Hunk sure is nice. He likes Hunk. So strong and muscular. He has a good heart too. So kind. He’s a great cook! Keith wants to eat his food forever. Keith wants to hold his hand. That’s always fun. His butt.

“Keith?” Krolia’s voice sounds like it’s underwater. He barely notices she’s said anything until she’s got her hand on his arm, squeezing gently. “Are you alright? You look flushed.”

When his eyes flutter open he's realized his eyesight has gotten, like, significantly better; like the world is in extra HD and he’s seeing it for the first time. Colors have never looked so _vibrant._ His mother is beautiful. Purple looks so nice on her. Oh, that’s her skin. He smiles, almost like a drunk, and leans forward to touch her cheek gently.

“We have the same face,” he says through a giggle. He drops his hand, letting it smack against his side and laughs again. “Is anyone hungry?”

“What’s _wrong_ with him?” Krolia asks, turning a glare toward the elder who looks between her and Keith with widened eyes. He lifts his shaky hands.

“I was just doing the ritual… the incense is over the counter stuff, I swear.”

Krolia scoffs, grinding her teeth and looking back at her son. She takes a good look at his eyes, sclera yellow with purple slits of irises. His body is warmer than usual. 

“I didn’t think I’d actually have to deal with this,” she mumbles. “You should be stronger than it.”

“What’s that?” Keith says, his eyes are closed again. He keeps them closed as he lifts his head to attention. “Oh, okay here we go!” Keith’s eyes then pop open again when he feels himself being yanked forward. He giggles and lets his mother walk him out of the small hut. He waves over his shoulder, smiling wildly at the elder who rings his own hands nervously.

Keith is super confused as to where he is until he feels his body fall flat against the soft, warm plush of his bed. He hums in delight, grabbing a bundle of blankets and bringing them to his face. They’re so comfortable. Why had he never realized this before? It's way too hot though. He laughs, rolling in the bed to lie on his back and look up at the ceiling of the small hut. Oh, he’s back in his hut. Where’s Hunk? He needs Hunk, like, yesterday.

“He got caught up with the council on some of the closing dealings since we are leaving in a day or two. He’ll be back soon,” Krolia answers Keith’s question that he didn’t know he’d said out loud. She’s busying herself with something at the small vanity in the hut. Keith listens to the clinking of bottles, something pattering into the sink, a small curse from his mother. He stares up at the ceiling still, his mind spinning but clearing up a bit more now that he isn’t surrounded by the endless clouds of incense.

“What’s going on?” Keith finally gains enough semblance of his self to ask this, and he knows he’s asking it out loud this time. “What’s happening to me?”

“You’re…not well,” Krolia says shortly, turning on her heel and bringing Keith a cup of water. She sets it on the bedside table and sits on the edge of the mattress. She places her hand over Keith’s shin, resting it there. Her eyes stay on her son for a while, a bit of concern written on her expression. Keith turns his head, glassy eyes peering over at his mother. “I’m going to head out for a bit, get some things. But I’ll be back. Just sit tight, okay? When Hunk gets here, just let him take care of you. I’m sure he’ll know what to do.”

Keith blinks slowly, processing Krolia’s words piece by piece. He feels weird. The nausea is gone, which is much better than before, but he still feels off. His fingertips buzz, that tingly feeling is still present in his feet. He still feels so damn hot. His throat throbs and aches.

“Okay,” his voice comes out not so much a whisper, but soft enough that Krolia pats Keith’s leg lovingly before standing again. “Okay,” he repeats when he hears the door open and close again. Then there is silence, dark and warm in the hut. Keith can hear his heartbeat in his ears, feeling it in his throat. He closes his eyes, wanting to attempt sleep, but he’s not tired. As weird as he _does_ feel, it isn’t exhaustion. It’s something different.

He doesn’t know how much time passes before he sits up, groaning in frustration. His mind feels like it’s on fire—burning with thoughts yet also feeling entirely empty and void of coherent thought. He feels like a walking paradox. A few more minutes of silence pass, and he sits there with his hands limp in his lap. His gaze shifts around the room lazily, looking for anything of interest. It does find something eventually, a bit of lighter color fabric at the end of his bed. Keith leans forward; grabbing it and quickly realizes it’s one of Hunk’s ripped shirts.

Without so much as a second thought, Keith brings the shirt up to his face, pressing it against his skin. It’s soft, but cold…not warm like Hunk, but the cold fabric feels nice against his face. He breathes in, eyes fluttering shut as he fills himself with thoughts of Hunk. He feels that burning sensation again, underneath his skin, and his mind goes a little hazy. That heat, bleeding through his veins, pools in the base of his stomach, and sinks lower. Keith shifts a little, his groin suddenly growing with piqued interest.

“Hunk, where are you,” Keith doesn’t feel himself say that, more like hears it spoken. Like the voice comes from somewhere else. He falls back on the bed again, holding the shirt to his face, his free hand coming down between his thighs and gripping himself through the fabric of his pants.

His eyes shoot open when he hears the door open again.

Hunk steps into the hut sideways, holding a bunch of schematics and blueprints, some even sticking out of the satchel he has slung across his chest. He struggles a bit, setting his stuff on the ground, sighing when he finally figures it out. The meeting went on long and all he wants to do is just shower, lay in bed with Keith, using his soft, flat butt as a pillow.

“Hey, Keith I’m back,” he says throught a small grunt after putting the last scroll down. He turns halfway, keeping his gaze on the scrolls and schematics to make sure they don’t tumble off the small table. “I tackled Tulruk today. Heh, you should’ve see— _mmf!!”_

Hunk falls back against the wall of the hut at the strong collision, and the impact makes a considerable noise. Keith’s lips press against his in feverish desire. Keith is everywhere; his hands groping Hunk’s chest, kissing him wet and sloppy almost instantly.

“Woah, Keith,” Hunk somehow manages to say words between gasping breaths. Keith’s hands grip the collar of his shirt tightly, pulling him forward which Hunk follows willingly. His heart thuds against his rib cage, mind suddenly filled with Tulruk’s words from earlier. He glances down, trying his best not to stumble, then looks back up at Keith’s wild eyes. Those yellow piercing orbs, lavender irises set on Hunk in a burning gaze. Hunk’s lip curls in an amused grin before Keith’s lips find his again, hungry and desperate.

“Need you,” Keith pants against his mouth, hands already pulling Hunk’s shirt off. “Now.”

“O-okay, Keith, _woah_ ,” Hunk’s barely able to get more words out between the frenzy of kisses that devour his mouth and the stripping that eventually causes him to fall back onto the bed. He bounces softly, hands coming to his side and he looks up at Keith who slips between his knees, taking off his own clothes. “Slow down, man. We’ve got all night.” Hunk smiles up at Keith, studying his flushed features, his glazed eyes. He watches Keith’s pale, scarred chest heave in and out in deep panting breaths.

“Do I…” Hunk licks his lips, gaze trailing down Keith’s torso, falling on the bulge beneath his tight fitting pants. “Am I doing this to you?” Even as he asks the question that’s been weighing on his mind all day, he feels his face warm with embarrassment. Between his legs, his half-hard cock twitches in interest.

Keith hooks his fingers into the top of his pants, shimmying out of them and kicking them aside in one smooth motion. He looks down at Hunk with ravishing eyes, a gaze Hunk has never quite seen before. It sends chills up his spine, goosebumps rising. The absolute primal look Keith has with those golden eyes, exposed canines…it’s enough to send Hunk to the moons and back. “You do so much to me, Hunk,” Keith smiles and crawls onto the bed, straddling Hunk’s thighs for a moment before sitting on him. “Mom said you’d take care of me tonight.”

Hunk’s mind stutters like an old-timey tank engine at the mention of Keith’s _mother._ Blinking like deer in headlights, his brow furrows a bit and his mouth forms a question that goes unspoken due to Keith’s lips being on his once more. Hunk’s thoughts catch up to him as he brings his arms around Keith’s back, pulling him in close as they lap and taste, tongues brushing languidly. The heat thing Tulruk mentioned, Hunk supposes it could be real, if the current situation is any indication. Could Hunk’s otherwise obsolete human pheromones be so strong that it sends Keith into some sort of primitive Galran sex delirium? As if on cue, Keith rolls his hips down, grinding against Hunk’s cock for much welcomed pressure. He's starting to think underwear is still entirely _too_ many clothes to have on. Hunk moans into the kiss, feeling Keith’s tongue slip in again.

God, Keith is hot.

Hunk trails his hands up Keith’s sides, fingers ghosting his naked, burning skin. He feels the beads of sweat that have already formed, cool to the touch here and there.

Really hot.

Hunk’s eyes open suddenly, mouth still moving against Keith’s. But then his hands pause, grabbing Keith’s arms.

_Too_ hot.

He pulls Keith away, despite Keith still in the midst of kissing him. Their lips part audibly, saliva trailing down both their chins as Hunk suddenly sits up, moving Keith with him. “Keith, you’re really hot.”

“Hmm,” Keith smiles, eyes fluttering. His cheeks are blotchy pink, a drop of sweat cascades down the side of his face “Right back at you, big man.”

“No, Keith, I mean like _really_ hot.” Hunk’s voice tenses and he brings his hand up to Keith’s forehead, brushing his sweaty bangs aside to place his palm on Keith’s clammy forehead. He shifts his palm to Keith's cheek. “I think you have a fever.”

“That’s impossible,” Keith mumbles and he suddenly sways, like his head is too heavy for his shoulders. “I’ve never gotten a fever in my life.”

“Keith, that’s not even true…” Hunk looks down for only a moment, studying Keith with worry and then looking back up. His eyes widen, horror striking his expression. “Keith?! Hey, are you--”

Keith suddenly slumps forward into Hunk’s arms, out cold.

“Oh my God, oh my God, OH MY GOD,” Hunk panics, his heart rate rising infinitely as he carefully sets Keith down on the bed. He gets a good look at Keith. His face is pale, brow covered in a cold sweat, and his breathing is labored. Hunk leans over on the bed, pressing his palm to the side of Keith’s face again, then to his neck, pressing gingerly against the swollen lymph nodes. “What the hell? What happened…”

The door to the hut suddenly whirs open, Krolia steps in with a bag slung over her shoulder. She holds a couple dark green and blue herbs in her hands. She knew she had to be quick about her errands. Luckily the remedies she found at the elder’s hut would be suitable. She looks up to see her son unconscious, mostly naked, with Hunk sitting beside him on the bed, also mostly naked. She stops cold, eyes wide.

Hunk looks over at her, equally wide eyes as his gaze darts from her to Keith then back to her. “Listen, I can totally explain,” Hunk begins. But it’s futile. Krolia darts across the small hut, making very little of the space between her and her son. Her hand comes to Hunk’s face, pushing him away almost too harshly, the herbs drop into Hunk’s hands in the process.

“You _idiot_ ,” she growls, teeth barred as she sits on the bed next to Keith, cupping her hands on his face. “What did you do to my son!?”

“Wh—“ Hunk stands, wringing his hands, herbs and all, to keep them from shaking. He steps back, faltering a little bit, mind reeling and uncertainty weighing like an anvil in his gut. He looks at Keith, still unconscious, and breathing labored. “I don’t—I don’t know! We were just…he just…” He stops talking when he hears Krolia sigh. She reaches around to her bag and grabs a small vile of a dark purple liquid, thick and viscous in the glass.

“This will bring his fever down, but we have to bring him to the infirmary,” Krolia says steadily. She takes another breath, seemingly calming herself before she speaks again. She and Keith have that in common. She does not look at Hunk, her eyes only on her son. “I had a feeling it was this, I just wasn’t sure. I waited too long. This is my fault.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ope.


	8. Chapter 8

Hunk often wonders what a suspecting father feels like in the waiting room of a doctor’s office when the birthing process has gone awry. What? He _daydreams_ a lot, okay? It’s not that weird.

Anyway.

He feels very much like that concerned father now, pacing back and forth, hand coming up to pet his facial hair. He’s realized it’s become sort of a habit already, which could be a good or bad thing depending on who you ask. After minutes of pacing, he begins to worry he’ll bore a small looped path in the grass outside of the infirmary hut.

It really hasn’t been a lot of time, but it’s enough to get his mind reeling. So many scenarios flood his overactive, critical-thinking-based (but prone to dramatics) mind. He feels like a fool, he should’ve seen the signs. Keith wasn’t well, he hadn’t been well for a while. He’d been acting differently, strangely, and not only in bed. He’d often seem dazed, with glassy eyes that seem having trouble focusing. He was overworked and underfed—with no one’s fault other than Hunk’s, he should’ve been making sure Keith was eating properly. He usually does. He’s been too…distracted.

Hunk curses himself, calls himself an idiot for believing that whatever is going on with Keith was simply some weird sexual desire for him. He bites his thumbnail, eventually ripping a small crescent off and spitting it into the dirt. He kicks anxiously at that same dirt. Selfish. Moronic. Imbec— 

“Hunk?” Krolia’s face pops out of the infirmary, eyes scanning around before locking with Hunk’s. She smiles gently, placating Hunk’s obvious dismay. “I’m sorry the medic kicked you out.”

Hunk lets out a breath and he shakes his head, “I was being a distraction. Seeing Keith just pass out like that kind of…caught me off guard.” The memory of it, seeing how pale Keith looked, how sweaty his brow had been, how his breathing had a small wheeze to it; sends shivers up Hunk’s spine. He rakes his fingers through his hair, sighing again.

Krolia steps out of the hut, closing the door behind her and walks over to Hunk. “That’s understandable,” she sighs and gestures with her head for Hunk to follow her as she turns. “Come with me.”

Hunk hesitates a moment, glancing back at the infirmary, second guessing leaving Keith’s side, despite a significant amount of metal between them. He figures Keith should be fine, considering Krolia is all forms of calm, and he’ll probably need rest. Hunk can afford to take a small leave. He follows Krolia, jogging to catch up to her and falling into step. They say silent for a short while, taking in the sights and sounds of the night. Time passes slowly, oddly calm, and Hunk begins to suspect Krolia just wanted to get him away lest his anxiety push him over the edge and he comes barreling into the infirmary again.

“You know what I love most about humans?” Krolia says before Hunk’s tin foil hat conspiracy can get much deeper. Hunk looks toward her, humming in question. “Their unpredictability. You think you can study a race, understand what’s at the heart, and yet they continue to throw you off your game. It’s what I loved about Keith’s father. Sure he was bold and stupid, but he always thought on his feet. He never ceased to surprise me…and amaze me.”

Hunk smiles, but can’t push down the twinge of confusion that knits his eyebrows. Krolia sees this and chuckles. She looks up toward the night sky, and Hunk notices how they reflect the stars just like Keith’s do. There’s strength to her look, as with Keith’s, and Hunk knows that strength comes from somewhere deep within. One that surpasses physical.

“Keith is so much like his father, I realize that more and more every day. I don’t talk about him much, not to Keith anyway. It’s always too difficult for me. I hope one day it won’t be. But Keith is patient, in a subtle way at least, and never asks too much.” She laughs. “He does not get that from me _or_ his father. We have Shiro to thank for that.”

Hunk listens and nods appropriately. He’s still lost at the reason this conversation sprouted, but he isn’t one to deter a heart-to-heart. “Keith may not say it very often, but he loves you a lot,” Hunk says. “He wanted nothing more than to have you in his life from the moment you reunited. I think you should be proud of the man he’s become. He takes after you a lot, I think.”

“I used to think that my absence would result in Keith bearing no resemblance to me,” Krolia responds with a small laugh. “I often feared that if I ever reunited with him, I wouldn’t even recognize him as my own. Years ago, that almost came to pass. It was a rocky start...but sure enough, Keith started showing my traits. Some I hadn’t even realized existed in myself. Stubbornness is definitely up there on the list.”

To that Hunk laughs softly, but he knows better than to vocalize any assent. He’s made that mistake in front of Keith before, which lead to at least 20 minutes of debate on how “completely not stubborn” Keith believes himself to be. Krolia stops walking now and turns to Hunk who follows suit. “Hunk, listen. Do you love my son?”

Hunk doesn’t hesitate, “With all my heart.”

“And you’d do anything for him, no matter the cost?”

Hunk swallows, but still doesn’t not hesitate. “Without question.”

“Even if that means years of unpredictability or potentially dangerous rage?”

Hunk’s determination finally stutters, blinking and shaking his head in question. “Huh?”

Krolia sighs, agitated but Hunk knows it’s not at him. She runs his hand over her face, trailing it to the back of her neck. Hunk notices a small blush to her cheekbones and she avoids his gaze. “Well, this is uh, this is all a very long, roundabout way to say: I’m sorry for lying.”

Hunk usually expects the unexpected when he comes to Keith’s mother. However, he does not _expect_ this. He blinks a few times, waiting for synapses to fire. His lips form a question, pausing a moment before his words finally find purchase in his lungs. “What are you talking about? Lying about what?”

“About Keith’s…condition.”

Something within Hunk’s gut ignites; a key clicking and turning in a lock that unleashes a surge of protective anger. His brows furrow and a frown sets on his lips. He steps forward. “ _Condition?_ What condition? What do you know?”

“Keith is not well—”

“Yeah, no shit!” Hunk interrupts, anger boiling his blood now. The shock from Keith collapsing before finally catches up to his senses. Adrenaline pumps through his veins, sight reddening with a thousand possibilities filtering through his mind. He steps even closer; an action that he knows puts Krolia on alert out of pure instinct. But he doesn’t care. This is Keith they’re talking about. His gaze goes dark. “Talk.”

“Please,” Krolia lifts her hands to calm the fury, it doesn’t help much but it does give her extra time to gather her thoughts. “It’s not as bad as it seems. What I mean is, Keith is sick. And he won’t get better. Sometimes he might get worse.”

Hunk’s eyes widen, almost crazed now, heart thudding wildly in his chest. “What?! I’m going to him right now—I’m—” He turns to leave, trying to brush his way past Keith’s mother, but her strong grasp comes to his bicep before he can make it three steps. She holds him in place without so much as a grunt of exertion.

“Not that kind of sick!” Krolia blurts, tugging Hunk back to face her. She does not let go of him, for fear of him running off again. When it seems like she has his attention once more, she lets out a heavy sigh and drops her grip from him. “It isn’t terminal, but it isn’t curable either. Keith is half-blood which already makes him susceptible to it.”

“I will literally give you 30 more seconds to start making sense, Krolia. I’m sorry, I love you, but Keith is—”

“I know, I know,” Krolia pinches the bridge of her nose and groans. “Hell, I know. I just—I thought his human genes would make him stronger.”

The incredulous look Hunk gives her sends a shiver down her spine and she finally relents. “All right, look. There’s an autoimmune sickness that used to plague the Galra. It spread quicker than medics and druids could research. It attacks the Galra’s very genetic make-up; ripping it up and causing some to become so weak a common cold kills them. Sometimes it drove Galra feral. It’s what lead to a majority of our race’s downfall, and partly what lead Zarkon to go to drastic measures for seeking power and resources within quintessence. Most Galra are carriers for it, but as time went on it became rare for anyone to exhibit it dominantly. Half-bloods are less likely to be carriers, but if they are…the risk of contracting is incredibly higher.”

“Soo, what are you saying? That Keith has some ancient Galra autoimmune disease? How can you be sure? How come it never affected him before? He’s way past the age of maturity; don’t things like that usually pop up at that time?”

“There are…circumstances that can trigger it. It’s what made the sickness so hard to research. Even if someone has it, it can stay dormant. Sometimes it never even shows. Other times _poof._ ”

“So what triggered it? It’s not like Keith got really sick before this, or—or had like some kind of infection.”

“Situational events can trigger these things too,” Krolia explains. “Much like in humans. The drastic shift in Keith’s life might’ve…”

“No, hold on,” Hunk says, aggravation rising in his tone once more. He lifts his hand to stop Krolia, who gapes at him in mild shock. “That makes even _less_ sense! Keith’s entire life since we were 15 has been nothing but traumatic changes and events.”

Krolia blusters, finding herself reeling and backstepping mentally. “Well, I-I was observing him! I wasn’t _certain_ if Keith ever even had his first heat. I know I’m his mother, but he’s a grown man, I couldn’t just ask him that out of the blue. A-and if he had, then he would’ve already triggered the sickness. Since I wasn’t sure, I just thought that maybe he had a stronger immune system like his father…and what was happening was just…his pheromones were overactive or…”

Now that.

That stops Hunk right in his tracks.

He blinks at Krolia, who’s red in the face and looking away. It reminds him a little of how Keith gets embarrassed. Must run in the family.

“I’m sor—ok, what? Are you say—wait, wow. Is heat—that’s a _real_ thing?”

Krolia closes her eyes certainly even more ashamed now—not only at the subject, but at the fact that because she had been so embarrassed about it, she had exacerbated this whole ordeal. Her pointed ears slump a little, visibly disappointed in herself. “Past Galra used to secrete pheromones to attract mates. Every Galra is born with—”

“No, yeah. I’ve gotten the talk,” Hunk is quick to stop Krolia, lest she turn any redder and keel over from embarrassment. Who knew she had such a side to her? Certainly not Hunk. “It created, like, close bonds and stuff, right?”

Krolia looks at Hunk with a shy smile, shrugging as she says, “Pretty much.” Her gaze then drops again, looking at her hands, clasping them into loose fists. “I should’ve been paying closer attention. All the symptoms were there…but I ignored them because,” her eyes dart up to Hunk for a moment. “Well, my son is very, very serious about you. I thought maybe his half-blooded nature was just making him _susceptible_ to his instincts. And then there was Zandar’s incessant prying.” She scoffs.

“Hold on,” Hunk says and he feels like he’s running a marathon and a half. He certainly has no plans on training for the iron man any time soon. His hands card through his hair as he puffs his cheeks, letting out a shaking breath when he drops his arms to his sides once again. “Symptoms? Of what?”

“Of heat,” Krolia finds her attention back up to the sky, eyes wandering the endless dark expanse. “My son and I are very similar in that aspect, I noticed. But heat is uncommon in adult Galra nowadays, naturally anyway. When the sickness is triggered, it enflames the glands, forcing pheromones to secrete and it _imitates_ heat. Which is a symptom of the sickness attacking his body.” There is a short pause and Hunk watches Krolia’s thick brows knit in concentration as she mulls many things over in her mind. Her hand comes to her chin, rubbing it almost sagely as she practically mumbles, “But his fever hadn’t started until much later. Way after his physical traits began to waver. He had been reacting to your scent on the wind as early as Lance’s wedding day. Maybe,” her tone raises, “He was jealous? Wanting to wed before his rival. Perhaps he _did_ go into a post-maturity first heat…”

Hunk stands without a sweater in the chill of the night, listening to Krolia—the mother of his most cherished Keith—mutter on about things Hunk would have never guessed in a million years he’d ever come across. Sure, he’s experienced plenty of unique alien cultures and customs and Lord knows he’s seen a thing or two. But this? This is…just so close to home. He still isn’t exactly clear on what is ailing Keith, but all he knows is he needs to be with him. Like, as soon as humanly and galran…ly possible. “Uh, ‘scuse me,” Hunk clears his throat which catches Krolia’s attention, she turns to him with pursed lips and hand still pinned to her chin. She blinks once or twice, golden eyes catching the moonlight. “Since we’ve established that Keith—remember him?—isn’t like, _dying_ , or anything, do I have permission to go see him now? I promise I won’t throw him over my shoulder and run away with him into the night.”

“Huh? Oh! Right, yes. Of course…he’s resting now. I just wanted to talk to you in private. Thank you, Hunk. I know remedies to help keep the...his condition dormant, he will be just fine. It’ll just be a process and a lifestyle change. But if you’re with him…” She smiles knowingly.

“So,” Hunk hesitates and kicks some grass. “I can go? Right now? In this moment? Now.”

“Yes,” Krolia chuckles, seemingly much more lighthearted now that she’s come to some sort of conclusion in her maternal mind. “Please go.”

By the time she is finishing the last syllable, Hunk is sprinting past her in practically a blur of color.

\--

Keith can make an extremely long list of times he’s woken up feeling like a thirty ton space craft bulldozed him. How he feels now is nothing compared to any of that. It’s like he’s waking up after spending the last 8 hours dunking his head in a bucket of cold water while simultaneously punching himself in the gut. He squints and groans as he awakens; eyesight blurry for only a moment until he blinks away the sleep. His mother had stepped out; he supposes he fell asleep pretty soon after that. His chest feels tight, but much _much_ better than before. A sharp scent fills his nostrils, a cool mix of what smells like eucalyptus and menthol. It soothes his sore throat.

What was he doing? He remembers standing amidst the smoke and incense, feeling the scent fill his body. He remembers his mind going goofy, like he couldn’t form a coherent thought to save his life. He remembers lying in bed. He remembers—

“Hunk,” Keith says out loud suddenly, sitting up a bit too fast and sends himself into an eye-crossing bout of vertigo. He squeezes his eyes shut, bringing his hand to his head in an attempt to settle the rattling in his mind. “Hun—”

As if on cue, the door to the infirmary hut slides open. Keith squints, grunting in pain, as the sheet of barely dawn pours into the darkened room.  He doesn’t have to wait for his pupils to adjust to the light, he already knows who it is as the door closes again and Hunk rushes across the room.

Keith, now able to unshield his eyes, watches Hunk approach, and lifts his hands up. Hunk does the same and the two collide softly, palms coming to each other’s faces as they press their lips together. They hold their chaste kiss for a few moments, a couple of peppering kisses here and there. Keith’s stomach does a flip, feeling a wave of an indefinable emotion surge through him. Before he really has any say, he feels the itch of warm tears trailing down his cheeks, falling to the curve of their pressed lips.

Hunk tastes salt, pulls back and opens his eyes to Keith’s tears. Hunk feels like his heart breaks in two and its all he can do not to pull Keith into an embrace, never letting go. Instead, he rubs his thumbs delicately over his cheeks, soothing as best he can.

Keith cries softly, tears only falling when he shuts his eyes attempting to blink them away and failing. He doesn’t make a sound, save for the occasional stuttering breath.

“What the hell,” Keith eventually sighs. His voice quivers over his words, causing his expression to scrunch and he clears his throat to try again, wincing at the action. “What happened?”

“You got sick,” Hunk says as gently as he can muster which if you ask Keith, is pretty damn gentle. His voice can soothe a tiger. “Are. Are sick. Sort of.”

Keith looks at Hunk for a moment, his hands dropping to his shoulders. “Like…the flu?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“Then what—”

“Keith, babe,” Hunk keeps his tone soft, but his expression turns serious enough that Keith knows to listen. “You passed out, like, hardcore. And not in the fun, sexy way.”

Keith’s gaze drops but his fingers fiddle their way to the nape of Hunk’s neck, playing with his hair. It’s soft and cold from the outside air. How long had Hunk been out there? “Oh.”

“Hey,” Hunk presses his hands softly against Keith's cheeks, gaining his attention again. “You’re going be okay. I talked to your mom; she seems to know a lot about what’s going on. It’s all gonna be good. But now you need to rest.” He leans over, tilting up a bit to kiss Keith’s forehead, then his wet cheek, then his lips once more. He hears Keith sigh into the last one, pressing forward tenderly and following Hunk's lips even as he parts.

“Will you stay?” Keith asks over a whisper.

“Uh, duh,” Hunk quickly retorts which gains a short laugh from Keith, and it is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to Hunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOLLLL Sorry for the super late update. I'm now officially settled in in my new life in Japan! It's a cute little town and every day my brain melts trying to speak Japanese. There are going to be a total of like 10 chapters, which I have mostly written, so please enjoy the rest of the wild ride! It only gets more weird from here because I am indecisive on plot. Also this chapter is un-betaed, so apologies!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get wonky.

You’d think a full 24 hours would be enough to let the news of everything that passed soak in, marinate as it were. You’d think that certainly nothing could confuse Hunk more than the events of the day prior. You’d think that with so much time having passed, Hunk would be completely and totally in control of his reactions.

Sure, you’d _think_ that.

But this is Hunk we’re talking about.

“Okay, what?” It surprisingly isn’t Hunk’s voice that’s soaked in incredulous disbelief, it’s Keith’s. But it _is_ Hunk who stands next to Keith’s bed, back now in Keith’s own hut, with his jaw almost hitting the floor and eyes the size of Pidge’s special dinner plates. “A-are you serious?” Keith croaks. His cheeks are pink.

The Galra medic nods, holding her hands together comfortable over her round stomach. “Quite, my dear.”

“It’s pretty rare,” Krolia adds (somewhat) helpfully, and the medic nods again. “After talking with you Hunk, I…I was still having my doubts about the immune sickness, so I wanted to make sure. Xythaldra here is the best in the colony, and I thought it be wise if I sought her aid.”

“Going into heat after reaching maturity is nothing to be ashamed of,” the medic continues with a wrinkly grin. “It can happen to anyone, especially half-blooded males. You didn’t properly take care of it, and with such a _strong_ reaction…it’s what triggered your fever. You better be careful in the future, little one.” She chuckles a little, in a way that only an elder can. One that makes you feel like you’re 12 years old again and she’s going to place hard candy in your hand any minute. “I predict maybe only one or two cycles a year. Three at most.”

Keith and Hunk stay silent now, staring wide eyed at the two Galra women who stand before them, basically saying…

“Keith was just so horny that it literally made him sick?!” Hunk is the one who blurts out the forbidden, but totally on everyone’s mind. The punch to Hunk’s gut almost knocks the wind right out of him. He’s too embarrassed to glance Keith’s way for a rebuttle.

“Well, that certainly is one way to put it,” the medic laughs mildly, lifting a hand to cover her mouth. Her soft cheeks seem to be a shade darker, blushing at the suggestion Hunk so graciously offered up. “To be young again…” she mutters delicately.

Keith groans, his ears pink and hot, and he falls back into his bed and covers himself with the blanket. He burrows underneath, hiding his face in shame. The medic laughs again, mumbling something about tonics to Krolia before excusing herself from Keith’s hut. Hunk watches her leave, smiling just enough to show his thanks before turning his attention back to the lump in the bed that Keith has become.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Krolia says, like a tape recorder of what the medic had been spouting for the last 15 minutes. “Heat is perfectly natural, Keith. I—I mean sure, it’s rare in adult Galra, but you’re unique! Human-Galra breeds aren’t necessarily prevalent, so it…you just have…different sexual reproductive tendencies. I-It just means you’re healthy and fertile and—”

“Fertile!” Keith repeats loudly, startling Hunk a little. “I don’t want to hear anything about _fertility!”_

Krolia blinks a bit, opening and closing her mouth a few times but not having anything to say. She gives Hunk a “sorry, I tried” look, making a small noise, before sighing and turning to leave. “We’re setting off for the next colony tomorrow morning,” she says with a smile as she exits.

The door hisses open and closes once more, shutting Hunk and Keith off from the outside world. It’s quiet for a long while. Hunk sits there, patient, keeping his hands to himself because he dare not touch Keith now. He eventually begins to twiddle his thumbs, letting his eyes wander the hut and noticing a few interesting things Keith had started to collect. Some of it he can guess what it is, others he has no clue. He can’t help but smile. Keith’s interest in his heritage is still going strong, and he suspects it will continue to be strong. Even…despite...well, current predicament notwithstanding.

A probable half hour passes before Hunk hears Keith stir next to him. With a heavy sigh, he removes the blanket to reveal his flushed face. Being underneath the covers that long would do that to you; but Hunk thinks it could be for other reasons too.

“I feel like a kid again,” he mumbles with a pouted lower lip which absolutely makes him look like a child. “Learning my body all over again…dealing with…with,” he gestures vaguely at himself, “ _hormones!”_

Hunk laughs softly. “Look at the bright side; at least you don’t _actually_ have a super rare, ancient Galran autoimmune disease that could possibly turn you into a savage beast from time to time!”

Keith shoots an incredulous, unamused look at him to which Hunk gives back a toothy grin that’s not so much a smile but more of a “these are my teeth” sort of expression. “Bright siiiiide…” Hunk repeats softly, adding a little jazz-hands action to his words.

Of course Keith smiles, Hunk always gets him to do so eventually. He shakes his head, lowering it to hide his airy laugh. They sit there together for quite some time, chatting idly and planning a course of action for the next day. Hunk completely looses track of time and before he knows it, he’s yawning over his words.

“You should head back to your hut,” Keith says with a sleepy smile of his own. He’s sitting cross-legged on his bed, on top of the sheets, while Hunk lies across the small mattress on the end. “Big day tomorrow. I think the colonial folk want to throw some kind of goodbye ceremony…”

Hunk laughs and yawns again, smacking his lips as he wiggles to get more comfy. He hums a little. “Nah, I’m good. I’ll be staying right here.” He hears Keith click his tongue, which he knows is a sound of disapproval, so he quickly retaliates. “I don’t want to leave you alone! I’ve seen too much these past 24 hours and I cannot handle any more surprises. Besides…what if you _desire_ me again?” He leans up a little, lifting his head to look at Keith and give him a good eyebrow waggle.

“Wh—” Keith’s face turns red again and his shoulders hike up real tense. “I d—I’m not…I _do not_ desire you!”

Hunk sits up now, turning to sit cross legged on the bed too and facing Keith. He feigns hurt. “Oh, my dearest, sweet Keitholemew Francis McGee—”

“That’s not even my name.”

“Dost my dicketh make you quiver so? Mine rippling biceps send you into a bout of vapors? Pray tell, do you hunger for a taste of my sweet berries and cream?”

“Ugh, okay now you’re just being gross!” Keith, despite his flushed cheeks, grabs a pillow and smacks Hunk in the face with it. “Whatever this heat thing was doing, it’s over now. So just…cut it out.”

Hunk catches the pillow easily enough and drops it between them. He laughs softly, smiling just as sweetly in a silent apology. They sit there for a while longer, Hunk watching Keith carefully and Keith looking down at his own calloused hands, picking at a hangnail.

“Hey,” Hunk says calmly. “Look at me?”

And Keith does; eyes clear and open. He blinks slowly, looking away for a shy moment before finally settling back to Hunk’s unwavering gaze. Hunk notices a small quirk to his lip, a smile threatening to breach the surface. Hunk scoots forward, reaching out and placing his work-roughened hand against Keith’s cheek. It’s soft and warm, but not too warm. It’s Keith temperature. The way it should be. The tonic that the elderly woman had Keith drink must’ve worked.

“Do you know why I came with? On this,” Hunk gestures around them. “Weird space odyssey to rehabilitate Galra kind? This seemingly impossible humanitarian task?”

Keith tilts his head into Hunk’s touch for a moment, basking in the familiar feeling. A feeling he never wants to go away. He thinks he knows the answer, but he doesn’t say it. He’s always had trouble saying it. He hates that he has trouble saying it. He wants to say it. But instead, “Because as a paladin, y—”

“Because I love you, Keith,” Hunk interrupts with a broad smile. He makes sure his gaze stays on Keith’s as he speaks. He shakes his head a little, a small laugh spilling over. “I love you so much. Every part of you. And I want to—I need to be there for you. Through this. Whatever this is. I’ll be by your side, learning with you. I can’t see myself doing anything else.”

Keith’s eyes widen only a little. It isn’t the first time Hunk has spouted affection like this, but it’s still so new to Keith. He still can’t believe how lucky he is. He swallows dryly, his heart fluttering and his stomach flipping. “I…” His words catch in his throat. Why is it so hard to say it? Only to him.

“And if that means helping you relearn your body. Or reminding you to take some sort of anti-pheromone tonic, then sure. Yes. I will do it. All the things. Because I love you, Keith.” Hunk can see Keith’s attempt, and of course it’s appreciated, but he doesn’t need Keith to say anything now. He just needs him to listen, to understand. To know that Hunk is here with him, for him, and he’s not going anywhere no matter how weird it gets. “We’re in this together. You and me.”

Keith’s response comes with him crawling over to Hunk, closing the gap between them as he climbs into Hunk’s lap. He wraps his arms around Hunk’s shoulders, kissing him as he settles there against him. Hunk holds Keith close, deepening the kiss but keeping it gentle, languid. They taste each other, savoring it. Keith’s teeth catch Hunk’s lower lip, biting just enough to pull at it curiously. His tongue presses in again, head tilting into the kiss as he lets out soft noises only meant for Hunk.

They sit there like that for longer than they’d care to admit; making out in the dim light of the hut. And it’s perfect.

\--

Hunk’s gotten used to ceremonies. He sits, or in this case, stands through many of them. He knows to look regal, important-like. He keeps his eyes trained on something far beyond the large crowd of (mostly elderly) colony folk. The speeches made are mostly in Galran, which he can somewhat understand. Okay, maybe only a random word here and there. But he knows they’re grateful; if the smiles toward him and Keith and Krolia are any indication.

A glance over to Keith shows Hunk that he’s also in “ceremony mode.” Hunk likes seeing Keith this way. It wasn’t something he’d always done; not when they were younger at least. Somewhere along the line of official business, war strategies and council meetings, Keith developed his professional air. He pulls it off quite well, if you were to ask Hunk’s honest, totally un-biased opinion. In some ways, it reminds him of Shiro, but also not. Shiro was—is his own type of leader. Keith is too.

“Eyes forward, paladin,” Keith’s stern voice catches Hunk off guard. His eyes focus again, realizing he’d been staring at Keith. And when they do focus, he’s greeted by a smile that definitely did not match the tone. It sends a small shiver down his spine and all he can do is give Keith a doofy smile before looking forward again, feeling a little giddy now.

“I had the pleasure of working closely with Krolia,” the common language redeploys Hunk’s attention, bringing him back into the world of the…not giddy. Zandar stands at the podium now, slender hands braced against the edges. His eyes are narrow as he looks out to the crowd; a sleek smile stretches his lips. Hunk gets chills, something about that guy... He never really did anything _wrong_ per-se, but Hunk is glad he won’t have to be involved with him any longer. “And although it saddens me that we part ways, I am happy to say the progress she aided in will continue to thrive. And Keith…”

Hunk glances toward Keith again, who stands rigid and doesn’t face Zandar. Hunk doesn’t blame him. Hunk looks back out to the crowd and his eyes catch Tulruk’s. Tulruk, who towers over many, waves wildly and flexes when he realizes Hunk’s caught sight of him. Sarnya jumps up, her face peeking out over the crowd excitedly, and Hunk actually laughs at that. He lifts his fist, hiding his chuckle over a fake cough.

“We are so happy to call you our brother in blood. Please continue to learn and live the Galra way. Doesn’t he look wonderful in those clothes?” Zandar gestures toward Keith and the crowd goes absolutely wild. Some of the Galra grannies, as Hunk has come to lovingly call them, hoot and holler and it reminds Hunk vaguely of Lance’s wedding day. Some things, including rowdy elders, transcend space and species. “And Hunk…”

Hunk straightens up, arms tight at his sides, and he swears he hears Keith laugh.

“Your innovations and dedication to progressing our technology has been essential to rehabilitation. Truly, we are in your debt. On behalf of the Fourth quadrant Galran sect, Galran Colonial Brigade, and the Galatic Coalition, we thank you all. May your travels be safe and your victories be bountiful. _Vrepit Sa!”_

The crowd echoes the chant, powerful and loud, followed by more cheers and applause. The official ceremony ends, but the colony folk stick around; mingling and chatting. Some push toward the front to shake hands one last time with Keith or Krolia. Some grannies nudge little ones forward and they hand Hunk baskets of various fruits and veggies that he had not yet gotten to use. Hunk kneels down and smiles at the blushing girl. She isn’t Galra, or at least not full Galra. She’s got bright, ocean blue eyes and it reminds Hunk a little of home. She goes a deeper shade of pink as she shoves the small basket into his hands and runs off. Hunk watches her run away, an amused grin on his face. He sees her run into the arms of the elderly medic woman, Xythaldra.

“The locals seem to like you,” Keith observes as Hunk stands up again. He’s got his hands full with his own received gifts. He smiles at Hunk and glances down at the basket of assorted food stuffs. “Looks like we’re set for a while. What…is this?”

Hunk blinks down at the basket, not having had a chance to once it over yet. He sees what Keith is referring to. It’s a small leather pouch that’s cinched at the top with thread. Keith lifts it up, holding it between his thumb and forefinger delicately. Hunk, on the other hand, leans in and sniffs it without hesitation.

“Some sort of herb, I guess?” he says simply to which Keith blinks owlishly for a moment. He shakes his head, laughing and placing the small pouch back into the basket.

“Let’s get going,” Keith says as he turns, nodding toward the ship as he adjusts the gifts in his arms. “We’ve got a little more to load.”

Hunk hoists the other baskets of assorted fruits and vegetables up onto his shoulders and makes to follow Keith. However, a small wave in the corner of his eyes causes him to pause. The medic, Xythaldra, stands off to the side. The little half-galra girl is gone, but Xythaldra seems to have one last thing to say. Hunk blinks slowly, mouth slack, and he starts to head over to her only to have Xythaldra lift her palms up to stop him. She mouths something that Hunk doesn’t quite get. He simply squints at her, tilting his head like a confused dog.

She laughs, pointing down into her hand, pantomiming the basket.

“Oh!” Hunk gets it now. He adjusts the baskets he holds, placing the bigger ones down and looking into the smaller one Xythaldra had the girl give him. He points to it with a questioning expression. She nods, almost sagely, and puts her hands behind her back. Hunk looks back down into the basket. He shifts around, looking for anything in particular, and to his surprise he does find something. Tucked neatly underneath the soft cloth at the bottom, between the edge of the basket and the fold of the fabric, is a slip of paper. He picks it up, pinching it between his fingers and shows it to Xythaldra. She smiles again, wrinkly and warm. With another sagely nod, she turns slowly and disappears beyond a small hut.

Hunk opens his mouth to call out to her, but she’s gone. Fast old lady. Was she ever really there to begin with? A mystery for the ages.

Anyway.

Instead of contemplating the existence of wise old Galra women, he looks down at the paper. It’s neatly folded and when he flips it over, he sees it’s addressed to him. He’s learned his name in Galran, at least. But before he has a chance to open it, he hears Keith calling for him again. “Right, sorry! Coming!” he quickly tucks the letter to the bottom of this basket, picks up all the baskets again, and makes his way back to the spacecraft.

Keith is standing at the top of the shuttle’s steps, hands on his hips and smile on his face.

\--

Their next trip takes much longer than the first. The journey from earth to the first colony had been about three weeks, and that was alright. It’s not like they haven’t already flown literally all across the universe. So three weeks is a piece of cake (or pie, if you’d ask Keith).

But a month and a half is…

Well, it’s rough.

Sure, back during the war, the paladins of Voltron had traveled for months on end to destinations unknown. They had ways to keep their minds and bodies fit.

And as they got older…Hunk and Keith found other ways to pass the time.

But here? In the less-than-spacious spacecraft? With Keith’s mother a single slab of metal wall away?

Hunk isn’t prudish, and Keith is more than willing. But something about it doesn’t sit well with either of them and they elect to stay on the safe side. It’s not like their intimacy is a secret, especially after what happened at the first colony. Regardless, it’s been a month and a half without sex and they’re...

Well, they're  _restless._

One particularly restless night, Hunk slips out of the bed, careful not to wake Keith, and heads towards the small kitchenette of the craft. Keith simply grunts, sighing in his sleep and turns into the warm spot that Hunk once occupied. The autopilot is activated and they’ve been slowly making progress to the next colony. According to Krolia, it’s a beautiful little planet, with about 77% forest and otherwise uninhabited landscape. Hunk is actually looking forward to it. If they would ever _get_ there.

He pads his way barefoot down the short corridor and flicks on the light for the kitchenette area. He stands in the center, hands on what little counter space it offers, and drums his fingers. He brings a hand up to pet his facial hair before sighing. He can’t decide what to make. He supposes he hasn’t gotten to work with those orange and green colored vegetables yet. He could make some sort of stir fry—experiment with the sauces he’d received from Sarnya. She’d said something about it being spicy, but Hunk scoffs at the concept. Nothing is too spicy for him.

“Where did I put it,” Hunk mumbles to himself as he rummages. He eventually finds the baskets gifted to him from the first colony in the bottom cupboard. There had been quite a lot, and it’s lasted them this long. He’s surprised by the shelf-life of some of this stuff. He squats down in front of them and digs through what remains of the vegetables. His hands pause when he comes across a familiar, but long since forgotten, item. His fingers trace the soft leather of the small pouch, picking it up and untying it. He hadn’t been too far off in his initial guess back on the first colony. It definitely is some sort of herb, ground into a fine, dark powder. He dips his finger tip into the bag, getting just enough stuck to his skin to taste. “Huh,” he breathes out a questioning sound. It’s flavorless.

He shifts, looking down into the basket and notices the slip of paper. He had also forgotten about that in the mix and fray of traveling. He reties the pouch, setting it on the floor next to him and he unfolds the paper. In practically perfect handwriting, and in English no less, is a short letter.

_Young Hunk,_

_This is for you specifically. For those cycles when Keith would rather take care of heat than suppress it with my tonic._

_Just sprinkle it under your tongue. A little goes a long way._

_Enjoy!_

_Granny Xythaldra._

Hunk stares at the letter, rereading it roughly 700 times. Is she for real?! He hasn’t the faintest clue what this substance could be —or what it could _do_ — but he’s blushing regardless. He leans forward, pressing his face into the letter and he feels his ears burn.

“I’m not telling Keith about this…” Hunk mumbles to himself as he quickly refolds the paper and removes it _and_ the pouch from the basket. He stands up and grabs the veggies he needs for stir fry and instead of throwing the powder away, he tucks the pouch into his back pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine, if you will, a scenic view of mountains. A babbling brook. A majestic eagle soars in the distance, it's proud screech echoing high in the sky.  
> Pan down.  
> You see me. I've somehow grown a beard. I haven't showered in months. I'm shaking. I step toward you, offering my quivering fingers up toward you. Holding the file.  
> I've done it.  
> I wrote the next chapter.  
> Hello, old friend.  
> [next chapter will be the last]


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every story has a beginning and and end. It's up to you to decide which is which.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was merely just going to be a porn chapter, but then I watched the final season and got emotional so I added a little drabble at the end.

The second colony exponentially outnumbers and out-technologies the first. They are denser, due to the vastly uninhabitable portions of the planet, but the population is thriving and they’ve actually got quite the established system already in place.

The work that Krolia sets up for Hunk is mostly just overseeing the defense systems, which for Hunk is busywork at best. He learned quite a bit from Pidge over the years, so things like this don’t exactly give him any headaches. He doesn’t complain though. It’s enough to keep the long days engaging.

The lodgings for them are also a significant step up from the small huts they’d been in on the first colony. Of course, those huts had been comfy and protected them from the elements, so they served their purpose. But… the hotel room-like furnishings of their new place of living does not go unappreciated. The first night, Hunk had barely gotten the door closed before Keith pinned him against the wall, kissing his neck hungrily in the soft blue light.

They’re also staying at this colony longer too. Which Hunk found odd upon hearing, but Krolia insists she has more to do here than at the first colony. Hunk isn’t going to complain about that either, since the nature around the populated city is absolutely gorgeous. He’s able to explore it as much as he likes, without fear too! The locals explained that there are no natural predators on the entire planet! Hunk’s in heaven. They take a while to plan any such nature excursions though. While Hunk finds his work rather light on this colony, true to her word Krolia and Keith are particularly swamped. Hunk offers help when he can. It’s been over a month at the colony, and he feels like he could be doing more.

This particular night, they’re lying next to each other on the spacious bed. Keith reads more Galran texts; his eyes narrow every once and a while when he stumbles across a particularly difficult piece of grammar. Hunk has his arms behind his head, eyes closed and dozing in and out of sleep. He peeps open one eye when he hears Keith scoff angrily. He watches him rub his eyes and then with another frustrated noise, press the button to zip the holoscreen away.

“Done for the night?” Hunk asks, opening both eyes and turning slightly toward him. He watches Keith scrub a hand down his face and Hunk can’t help but think he looks particularly handsome tonight. Must be the mood the blue light gives off. All the lit rooms tend to be some pale version of the primary colors. It’s nice.

“I can’t focus,” Keith mutters softly, crossing his arms. He’s wearing a black tee and his boxer briefs which – again in Hunk’s totally, 110%, un-biased opinion – is the sexiest outfit ever. Despite the rather chilly climate of the planet, Keith says he feels like he’s been running hot. Stress from his work, and all that, so he says. “I keep trying to relax, to just learn, but I keep thinking about other things. I need to just...wind down.”

“Let’s go out,” Hunk says with a confidence that catches Keith off guard. He turns his head fast.

“Out?”

“Yeah! It’s still early,” Hunk sits up and pats Keith’s thigh.

“Is it?”

Hunk nods, “We can hike up those hills behind us! I read there’s a nice hot springs over there. I bet if we sneak, we can slip by unnoticed by the locals.”

Keith chuckles softly, shaking his head in disbelief, but agrees to Hunk’s spontaneous idea regardless. They quickly get dressed, pack some refreshments, and head out toward the darkness.

\--

Thankfully, the two are able to pass by the busy streets without any determent. They’ve become quite the local celebrities, much to Keith’s dismay. It’s different than the first colony—where it was more appreciation than adoration. Here it feels like they’re some sort of idol group. Like the ones Romelle really got into before they left on their mission.

Keith shifts the messenger bag toward the front, digging in it. “Catch!” he says and tosses Hunk a fruit that is basically just an apple. They’d actually had a small argument over it. Keith still can’t understand why Hunk won’t just call it an apple.

Hunk catches it easily enough and bites into the crisp, slightly tangy flesh. He hums a happy sound before wrapping his arm around Keith and pulling him in close.

“It’s still not an apple,” he says softly, to which Keith rolls his eyes.

The pathway is dim, lit only by spontaneous flora that gives off a blue bioluminescence. Hunk discovered that these plants are the colony’s main source of light—hence the oddly colored lights in their room. It’s beautiful; everything with a small twinge of blue instead of the harsh orange or yellow found on earth. Not to mention unlimited and a clean source of energy. Hunk knows Pidge would just love it.

The night is chilled, and their breaths cascade up like tiny crystallized clouds. Hunk takes another bite of the fruit and snuggles Keith closer as they walk.

“You sure you’re not cold?” he asks with a mouthful. His gaze falls on Keith, who only put on a single layer over his clothes he’d been wearing in their lodging.  He points as he looks away, “Oh, we gotta turn left up here.”

He feels Keith shrug against him. “I’ve been running warm the past few days…”

He’s said that before and the first time Hunk heard it, a chill went down his spine and goosebumps rose on his arms. But that was the end of it. Full stop.

Still, Hunk couldn’t stave off the curious and rather _intrusive_ thoughts. Before they finally left the last colony, they’d both gotten small files sent to their communication devices. A brief, and rather lacking, overview of Galran heat cycles that Krolia dug up somewhere from the depths of who knows where. Hunk had been eager to learn! He read it in one sitting that ended with more questions than answers. Keith read it too, but not without making sure he was entirely alone. They haven’t talked about it since.

There’s a quiet pause as they walk, their feet crunching the dry foliage beneath them. In the dark distance, chirping insects or quite possibly lizards echo high into the cold air. Hunk glances over at Keith, still holding him close against his side as they round the large rocky formation. The dim light of the path gives way to a much brighter, yet still brilliant, blue. The steam from the water rises high and a faint sulfuric smell wafts along with it. It’s not unpleasant though. If Hunk had to describe it, he’d use _organic._ The water of the hot springs is clear; bubbles rise to the surface as heat boils over certain areas.

Hunk loves the way the blue light reflects in Keith’s eyes. The condensed heat of the area already curls the ends of his hair, now only slightly longer than it had been on their first destination. He watches Keith shrug off the bag, while placing his own down on a wide, flat rock that rises to waist height.

Keith’s soft smile grows bigger when his wandering gaze lands on Hunk’s. “It’s beautiful,” he says.

Hunk nods, feeling ever so slightly gooey inside. His heart melts with affection, he can’t help it. He steps forward to Keith, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him close. This earns him a soft, airy laugh as Keith’s own arms snake up around the back of his neck.

And then they stand like that. Comfortable. Close. It’s enough for now; the two of them gazing into each other’s eyes like they haven’t seen them before.

Hunk’s gentle expression only falters when he watches Keith glance away, brows furrowing just enough for him to know there’s something on his mind. He waits.

“Hunk, there’s something…I. I mean—I wanted to…” Keith starts in a soft tone, barely rising above the soft hissing of the geysers in the pools behind them. Hunk watches his adam’s apple dip with a rough swallow. “We should probably get in the springs, right?”

He knows it’s not what Keith was going to say, but he allows it. It’s time for relaxation, right?

Right.

Hunk smiles wide, teeth sparkling in the blue light given off by the mossy-like flora surrounding the water as well as deep within it on the rocky walls. He leans forward, kissing Keith quickly. “Then what are we waiting for?”

Stripping their clothes—which may or may not have taken a little bit longer than necessary due to some grabby hands— the two of them step into the hot springs. The water is the perfect temperature. Just hot enough to sting a little, but oh-so relaxing once you dip all the way in. Hunk finds a smooth rocky edge to sit on, lifting his arms up to rest. Keith finds a similar spot, slipping down into the water until it hits just chin. He lets out a long, drawn out groan as his tense muscles begin to finally loosen.

Hunk should feel bad for his dick reacting the way it does. He really should.

But he doesn’t.

He should _really_ feel guilty for the hastily packed leather pouch in the bottom of his bag.

But he isn’t.

Hunk isn’t claiming anything by bringing it! He’s just…he’s prepared. He read the text! He knows things! And grant it, he has yet to tell Keith about the pouch and its content and its mysterious purpose, but Hunk just…likes being prepared.

“Stop thinking so much,” Keith’s dulcet tone brings him back to the world unpaused. “I can practically see the gears turning. I needed to relax, and you do too. You’ve done a lot of overseeing these past couple weeks.”

“Wh—huh? Oh yeah. Right. I can do that,” Hunk says a bit distractedly; maybe starting to maybe feel a little guilt maybe. He feels like if he looks at his bag it’ll catch on fire. “I wasn’t thinking of anything…”

“O…kay,” Keith looks at him for a short while, eyebrow quirked. “Something…you wanna tell me?”

Hunk widens his eyes, tightening his lips, and letting out a small peep. This, to Keith, is a dead giveaway. Keith narrows his gaze on Hunk which he knows will eventually get him to spill. It works like a charm. Every time.

Hunk tries his best, he really does. He holds his mouth as tight as he is physically capable, but the air pressing against it, the urge to just blurt it out overpowers him. He lets out his breath in a giant puff and spills. Almost quite literally. “When we left that first colony the old, kinda funny, medic lady gave me a pouch. Oh, you remember it right? I thought it was some sort of herb? Well, she wrote a note saying it’s for me specifically to use when you want to take care of your heat rather than mask it with her tonics. So I thought, hey this is weird! But I didn’t want to _throw_ it out, you know? Cuz, how rude is that! So, I kept it and forgot about it and lately you’ve been saying you’re running warm and I’ve noticed you space out a little sometimes and I remember reading that those might be signs of an incoming heat so I may have probably brought that powder stuff with me. Tonight. Now. Right now. It’s there. It’s in my bag. Now.”

Keith stares at him, slack jawed and eyes wide. He blinks slowly, processing what Hunk just spewed. There is a quiet tension between them with nothing but the hissing water and the sounds of creatures in the forest around them. The blue light from the moss continues to give off its calming aura.

“What?” Keith finally says and Hunk simply deflates. He slumps forward and groans, standing up and waddling out of the water to grab the pouch. He steps back into the hot spring, wading over to Keith and sitting next to him. He hands him the pouch, eyes downcast in preemptive apology.

The pouch is light in his hands and Keith looks down at it curiously, untying the string and peeking at the powdery material. He lifts it to his nose, sniffing it as Hunk did long before. He doesn’t have a clue what it could be, and he doesn’t remember reading anything about… _substances_. He glances toward Hunk, “What does it do exactly?”

Hunk shrugs, “Dunno. All she said was to use it sparingly and that I just sprinkle it under my tongue.”

“And you brought it here with you tonight…because…?”

Hunk feels his cheeks start to burn, and it’s not because of the relaxing heat of the water. He makes a wordless, “I dunno” sound while avoiding Keith’s gaze. He hears Keith sigh and they sit in silence for another chunk of time. Hunk takes the pouch, setting in on a small rock formation out and away from the water. When the five minute mark finally arrives and passes, Hunk sighs too. He moves to stand up and apologize, but something bizarre catches his eye. The colors of the moss, once a brilliant blue, now glow a deep purple. The entire area around them changes hue and it’s like a sky light show of epic proportions. Hunk can’t help but smile. It is things like these that make traveling to destinations unknown worthwhile.

“I wonder what—”

“I am.”

They spoke at the same time. Hunk turns toward Keith, tilting his head. “You…huh?”

Keith sinks lower into the water, the surface just barely touching his lips. In the purple light, Hunk can see now that the scleras of his eyes are a faint yellow; irises mere slits.

“I’m uh, yeah…” Keith says again, clearing his throat and shifting awkwardly in the water. “I’m in heat now. I can—I can tell. It started probably a day or two ago…”

“Oh,” Hunk says articulately.

“Yeah.”

“So that’s…okay,” Hunk studies Keith for a moment before turning his gaze to the new purple glow of the water. He smiles softly. “When we get back we can boil that tonic and I’ll make some biscuits! We’ll turn it into a tea party. And I want to properly apologize for—” He stands up, stretching a little, before putting his foot on another rock to step out of the springs. Before he can get anywhere though, Keith’s hand catches him on the wrist, pulling him to a soft stop. “Keith?”

“I don’t…want the tonic,” Keith isn’t looking at Hunk. He can’t. “It helped clear my head and fever, yeah, but...I didn’t…I don’t like it. How I felt when I took it. It was—I don’t know. It felt wrong.”

Hunk’s heart leaps a little, skipping a beat as his eyes widen ever so slightly. He steps back into the water, sitting down close next to Keith. His hands come to Keith’s arms, wet, soft and smooth with the minerals of the water. He slides his fingers down. “But if we let it go on too long, you could get sick again.”

“Well, isn’t that what… _that_ is for?” Keith says with a twitch of his head to something behind Hunk.

“Wh—huh?” Hunk sputters for only a moment before his mind catches up. Duh! “Oh…oh, right! Yeah, we could totally—I mean. We could try it?”

Keith chuckles a bit, expression softening into what might be described as bashful, but this is Keith we’re talking about. He lifts his hands to Hunk’s arms now, the water shifting as he moves. He grips his muscles, smoothing his palms flat against them in small circles. He scoots closer, eyeing Hunk through dark lashes, up through hooded eyelids, and it sends chills down Hunk’s spine. Chills he welcomes wholeheartedly. Keith’s stare is so much more intense when his eyes look Galra. And _damn_ if that heat thing doesn’t do something to his overall…sex appeal. Honestly, it’s unfathomable.

“Let me just…” Hunk mumbles as he leans over, tilting out of the springs to dry his hands off on his long forgotten pants. He grabs the pouch, pinching some of the mysterious substance between his fingers before turning back around to face Keith. He holds his fingers up to Keith’s eye level and shrugs. “Here goes nothing?”

He tilts his head back, sprinkling the powder into his mouth, under his tongue. He closes his mouth and waits, feeling a small tingle in his mouth but nothing more. He doesn’t feel different. And it is still tasteless. He wonders if it’s just some sort of ancient, home remedy that doesn’t actually work. Like the Earthen myth that elephant tusks ground up somehow make your dick magnificent.

They stare at each other a moment, blinking and waiting. Nothing happens. And they are nothing if not two men with a sense of humor. They fall into a fit of laughter, breaking whatever tension had risen. Keith slides closer to Hunk, slipping into his lap comfortable and wrapping his arms around the back of his neck.

“Maybe you got conned again,” Keith says with a cheeky grin, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Hunk’s. That grin is one that Hunk instantly wants to kiss the living daylights out of.

So he does.

He leans forward, closing the distance between them, wrapping his strong arms around Keith and pressing his lips against his. His action is rewarded with a soft, surprised noise from Keith, followed by an even softer, relaxed moan as the kiss quite easily deepens. Lips open, tongues venture, their breathing becomes heavy as they taste and feel.

Nothing really tops the feeling of making out with your boyfriend in a somewhat magical looking hot springs on a far-off alien planet. At least, that’s what Keith began to think before a strong scent catches his attention. It sends a shiver down his spine, sending his mind swirling and his heart skips a beat. His eyes pop open, wide and alert and he breathes in sharp, surprised gasp. Like he stepped on a tack.

The sudden reaction does not go unnoticed by Hunk. He slowly pulls away, lips lingering in barely there touches against Keith’s. “Are you okay?”

Keith isn’t really sure how to answer. He keeps his eyes closed, leaning in against Hunk’s body as he feels his own begin to almost tingle. He shivers again, suddenly rutting against Hunk in a lewd way that catches even himself by surprise. His eyes flutter open, catching Hunk’s in an intense gaze with rosy cheeks and deep breaths. And Hunk holds him; strong yet gentle in his large hands that press against his wet skin, all the while his own set of deep brown eyes never unlocking with Keith’s. There’s a fire behind those eyes, the color darkening as his pupils expand with a desire Keith knows is only for him.

“I think it worked,” Keith says over a gasp as he rolls his hips against Hunk’s. The throaty moan that escapes Hunk in response is enough to make Keith’s eyes flutter shut again, head tilting back. “You,” he swallows heavily, his throat feels dry. “You smell awesome.”

Hunk laughs softly, lowering his arms around Keith’s waist to hold him still as he rocks his body up against him. “What is that supposed to mean?” He already knows, but he’s feeling cheeky all of a sudden. Like he wants to tease Keith…if only a little bit. He brings his lips to Keith’s exposed throat, kissing and sucking the skin until it bruises. He licks against it, soothing the offended area.

“Y-you, ah, you already know what I mean,” Keith gasps, pulling away from Hunk to brace his hands on his broad shoulders, anchoring him down. He begins to move again, pressing their cocks together and rolling his hips with a precision that is uniquely, and humorously, perfect. The water around them sloshes, splashing up against their already soaked skin. Tiny waves form around them and it sends some water over the edges of the springs, spilling out onto the rocks.

Hunk can feel a heat deep from within begin to boil over. Despite the overwhelming urge to just sit back and enjoy, he can’t stop himself from speaking. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about,” he says with a grin, doing his best to open his eyes again and look at Keith. Now, Hunk has been through some scary times. Whether it was venturing deep within the belly of a gigantic beast or infiltrating enemy ships, Hunk has seen a thing or two. The deep, almost dark, definitely…feral look at Keith gives him is enough to turn the hot spring to ice. It’s only for a moment though; a fleeting moment that’s gone faster than Hunk has to process it. Keith lets out a low growl, somewhere from deep within his chest, and he’s dipping his head toward Hunk. His lips, teeth, come against the skin of his neck now. His hand lifts to Hunk’s hair, threading his fingers through it and gripping it tightly. He pulls Hunk’s head back, exposing more of his delicate, smooth skin to suckle and nip.

Keith’s movements do not even falter. He thrusts against Hunk, their cocks growing harder and more sensitive with each passing moment. Hunk shivers, hands gripping desperately at Keith’s waist. He can’t cum like this, but hell if it isn’t great. He’d let Keith do this all night if that’s what he wanted. Luckily for Hunk, it isn’t.

“Gimme your hands,” Keith breathes hot and heavy against Hunk’s throat. Hunk does as he’s told, letting Keith’s quick movements guide his hands down to his ass. He grips it tightly, earning more desperate moans from Keith that have Hunk aching. He slips one hand downward, between Keith’s cheeks, finger gliding along his entrance. Its here when Hunk’s pauses, and it’s enough to cause Keith to open his eyes again, turning his flushed face toward Hunk. He presses his forehead against his. His piercing eyes, yellow and purple, stare deep into Hunk’s. “It’s okay,” he says with a smile.

“A-are you sure?” Hunk responds, glancing down into the water at their bodies still pressed against each other. “I don’t want to hurt you or…maybe we should go back to get…”

“Hunk,” Keith’s voice is solid but still has that comforting tone to it; the one Keith perfected for Hunk. “You aren’t going to hurt me. I, just, I know. It’s a feeling. So, please?” With that, he presses down against Hunk’s finger.

Hunk bites down on his lower lip, slipping his finger into Keith with absolutely no resistance. He can’t help it, his eyebrows shoot up and he lets out an intrigued, “Huh.” He glances back up to Keith, who’s closed his eyes once more, rocking back onto Hunk’s hand. Hunk can already slip in a second finger, spreading Keith open with an ease that defies logic. He swallows, holding back a weird, unnamable urge that catches him off guard.

By the third finger, Keith lets out a quick moan loud enough to echo against the rocky formations above. He shivers, tilting forward more and resting his head now against the space where Hunk’s shoulder meets his neck.

“H-Hunk, please,” he gasps and it’s the first time Hunk has _ever_ heard Keith sound like that. It’s…well it’s definitely doing something for him, to say the least. “I can’t take it anymore. I need… _dammit_.”

Hunk feels Keith press against him more firmly, shivering more and desperately rocking onto his fingers; wanting deeper, wanting more.

And it’s like a switch flips.

Hunk stands, fingers slipping out of Keith which gains him a shocked gasp. He turns them both around, pushing Keith forward against the edge of the springs. Keith’s chest presses against a mossy area, the purple glow illuminating the droplets of water on his skin. His hands are shaking, gripping the mossy rocks on either side of him as he leans forward, and he tilts his ass out of the water. Hunk is on him in an instant, pressing against him, wet skin against wet skin. Kissing the back of his neck, his shoulders, his lower back. His hands slide against Keith’s sides, fingers slipping against the divots of his ribcage and the toned muscles and the scar tissue of many wounds past. He moves one of his hands to his own cock, stroking it only a few times as he tries to calm his breathing.

Keith turns his head, letting it rest against the glowing moss. His eyes are closed tight, lips pressed into a thin line that unmistakably turns into a smile when he feels Hunk’s cock press against his entrance.

“You’re damn beautiful,” Hunk says with a husk in his voice that sends even more shivers through Keith.

Keith doesn’t have a response, he couldn’t think of one even if he tried. His mind feels lost, it’s in a haze but it’s not unpleasant. It’s filled with confusing thoughts—urges that scream one thing then another. But one thing that is for certain, it all points to Hunk. It’s a desperate, but loving desire. He tilts his head back, mouth opening into a drawn out moan when Hunk presses into him. It doesn’t even burn. He just feels full and tight and perfect. His breath hitches, coming out shakily on the exhale.

Hunk’s hands fall to the rocky edge of the springs as he finally fits all the way. He lets out a breath too that fades into a short groan that almost sounds like a whimper. His head hangs forward, bangs falling over his eyes. The hairs at the nape of his neck are damp from sitting in the springs. “Holy crap…” is all his loquaciousness allows him to say.

“Hunk m—” Keith doesn’t finish his command, he doesn’t need to. Hunk begins to thrust, slowly, slowly drawing out before pushing back in. It’s a languid movement, careful. But Keith can feel the urge within Hunk; he feels it within himself. With shaky arms, he lifts himself off of the moss, propping up so he isn’t scraping against the surface.

The silent adjustment is met with faster thrusts, _harder_ , and as deep as Keith can take it. Hunk’s hands grip his waist, fingers pressing with bruising pressure. Keith’s moans are lewd, loud, and urge Hunk on with a powerful conviction. Hunk’s own voice finds purchase in low, deep groans as he tilts his head back.

“Hunk,” Keith’s voice sounds far away, covered in the dripping sweet honey of his moans. Hunk feels himself drawing closer to the edge, a burning knot deep within himself that he frantically rushes toward. By the time he feels Keith clench around him and hears his tense groan as he cums, Hunk climaxes too, suddenly, almost too powerfully. He goes still, tilting forward and pressing hot lips against Keith’s wet skin as he releases inside of him.

“Yes…” Keith’s breathy voice fills the sudden silence between them as Hunk falls from his high. Their breaths are heavy; their bodies pressed against each other as one.

When Hunk hears Keith hum contently, he kisses between his shoulder blades. He leans back, pressing his large hands against along the smooth bumps of Keith’s spine gently as he pulls out. The mess he’s made drips down Keith’s legs, pooling into the sizzling springs before disappearing beneath the ever-moving water.

He takes a small step back, hand lingering on Keith for a moment more.

“Are you—”

“I love you,” Keith interrupts Hunk with a sudden gasp. His shoulders still heave with deep breaths and Hunk watches with wide eyes as he turns around. He’s still hard, skin flushed and wet. But Hunk is too distracted by what was just said to comment on it. “I love you, Hunk. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it back, I—I’m just…”

Hunk smiles, softly, one that barely touches his eyes, and he steps back toward Keith. He slips in close, pressing against him as he wraps his arms around Keith in a gentle embrace. He can feel Keith shiver against him, mouth and nose pressing against his wet skin and breathing in deeply.

“I love you too, Keith,” his voice rumbles in his chest, heavy and warm with emotion; mind filled with thoughts of Keith. His Keith.

The steam rising off of their hot skin disappears into the darkness above the purple glow. Keith is the first to pull away from the embrace, face pink and eyes still as Galran-looking as ever.

Hunk tilts his head, “Ready to head back?”

“Uh,” Keith manages to say after a short beat. His gaze flutters to Hunk once or twice before Hunk feels Keith’s hips slide against his once more. His hand lifts tentatively, slipping his wet finger down the side of Hunk’s jaw line, coming to the bristles of his facial hair. “I’m not really…done yet.”

“Oh!” Hunk says, a blush crawling over his cheeks. He lowers his hands, goosing Keith more or less. “Say no more, my dearest honeysuckle!”

“Wh—” Keith blinks in surprise, face going even redder than before. He pushes against Hunk’s face now, pulling away. “Oh my G—no, never mind! I’m out of here!”

“Wait!! You desire me, my love! I shall quench thy thirst! Dost mine—“

“No!” Keith laughs and can barely manage to take a few steps before their tangled limbs send them both splashing into the springs.

\--

Two months pass on the second colony before they are off to the next. And with their two successes, their mission takes off. More and more outposts call for aid of their humanitarian efforts. It keeps them busy for the greater half of three years.

And when it’s finally time to return to earth, Keith and Hunk watch the blue expanse creep closer and closer through the bay windows of the ship. Krolia lands the ship with ease and their friends are waiting for them in the hangar as the doors hiss open.

Hunk steps out first, a bag slung over his shoulder. He glances around, taking in the sight of earth once again, and breathes in deeply. A small mist clouds his eyes and he blinks it away before it can become tears.

“You grew a beard!” Hunk hears Lance’s voice before he actually sees him. And when he does see him, it’s mostly his chest because Lance full on sprints to Hunk, leaps into his arms, and engulfs his head in a giant hug.

“I got tired of shaving the goatee,” Hunk says, voice muffled by Lance’s shirt.

“A goatee?!” Lance says as he slides back down to the ground. He holds Hunk at arm’s length. “Oh, there _better_ be pictures of that.”

“It’s good to see you, buddy,” Hunk says with a short laugh and a gentle smile. Behind him, he hears Krolia and Keith exit the ship too. He turns to smile at them as they come to his side.

“I see you decided to go back to mullet,” Lance says with a snarky grin as Keith nods a greeting to him. “Wait a minute. Oh no, Hunk you’re growing one too?!” He flicks the small pony tail that Hunk ties his hair back with nowadays. 

“I’m getting it cut soon, don’t worry princess,” Hunk says. “Speaking of—Hey!!”

“I’m glad to see you’re all safe,” Allura, bright and beautiful as ever, greets them as she walks up with the rest of the crew that Lance had left in the dust with his intense sprint toward Hunk.

Hunk brushes past Lance, rather comedically, as he stares bright eyed and gestures wildly at her round belly. “A BABY!” He practically screeches.

“Excellent observation,” Shiro laughs as he claps Hunk on the shoulder before walking over to Keith and giving him a big hug. “You look good.”

“You too,” Keith says with a smile and a warmth in his heart. As much as he enjoyed helping the Galran people, it feels light-years better to finally be back home. Back with family. Back where it all began. “When did you get glasses?”

“Who cares about glasses, Keith,” Hunk says dramatically as Pidge tries to give him a hug. “Allura has a baby inside her!!”

Everyone laughs, very much at Hunk’s expense, but it’s all in good fun. Allura lets him feel the baby kick. Pidge finally gets her hug. Coran tearfully fills them in on happenings and goings on. The reunion is long, drawn out, and before anyone really realizes it, the sun is setting over the horizon and bleeding orange and purple into the sky.

\--

That night Hunk lies in bed, next to Keith, staring up at the high ceiling of their apartment. It feels weird being back in it after three years. In the scheme of life, three years isn’t really that long, but so much can happen. And so much did.

“Can’t sleep?” Keith turns in the bed, voice pulling Hunk from his wandering thoughts. Hunk turns toward him too, propping himself up on his elbow.

“I’m just thinking,” Hunk says through a sigh. “We did a lot out there, didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Keith nods with a tired smile and a yawn. “We did. We helped a lot of people start again. A new beginning…or something,” he adds bashfully.

There is a short pause between the two of them. And a thought pops into existence, lingering above them both as if they shared it. Their eyes met each other’s for that pause, silent and sharing.

“So, where’s our beginning?” Hunk fills that silence; putting to words what both of them are thinking.

“It’s…” Keith begins softly, gaze drifting upward toward the ceiling. The moonlight slipping through the sheer curtains washes over his lavender irises. “It’s already begun. It did a long time ago, I think. And we’ve come so far.”

“I’m ready to take it a step further,” Hunk responds solidly, not a moment’s hesitation in his words. Keith can’t help up let out a small gasp, eyes widening as he turns his attention back to him.

“W-what…”

“Keith,” Hunk doesn’t let him finish. He sits up, guiding Keith up as well as he takes his hands in his. “We’ve been through so, so much. Not just these past three years, but before that. The war. And before that, the garrison. I can’t tell you exactly when I fell in love with you, but I know it’s been a long, _damn_ long time."

"Hunk, what are you- I'm n- "

"Keith, will you marry me?”

Hunk watches the glint of tears flicker in Keith’s eyes before his brows furrow, lips tightening and his head drops. He doesn’t say anything, but Hunk doesn’t worry. He waits, smiling as he slowly leans forward, dipping low to look up at Keith from under his lowered head. His eyes find Keith's again, tears falling.

"Wellll?" he draws it out so long it borders on obnoxious.

“You’re so embarrassing….” is all Keith says before grabbing Hunk by the face and pressing his lips against his in a deep, warm kiss.

Hunk’s known Keith long enough to recognize a _yes_ when he sees one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And before anyone asks. Yes, Hunk asks Krolia about Galra heat and it's relation to baby-bearing.  
> No, I will not tell you what he finds out.


End file.
